Traumatized
by memeteam2016
Summary: Danny Fenton was a troubled teenager - he had abusive parents, he was bullied at school and what's up with the freaky ghost powers? His family move to Amity Park, where he meets two interesting students and discovers his 'hero complex'. And then he goes on a journey to defeat... himself? [DxS][AU][Rated T for: blood, gore, horror, abuse, torture ect][no PP]
1. Chapter 01: Bright Stars and Big News

_*jumps out of the Ghost Zone* ahola, beautiful one!_

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 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

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 **Chapter 01:  
** Bright Stars and Big News

. . .

There was something about a clear night's sky that Danny Fenton had always relished in. Perhaps it was the beautiful constellations that speckled across luxurious mightnight blue; silver, red and yellow stars that were unjudgemental, almost forgiving towards a troubled teenager like himself. The freedom they brought exhilerated him, made him feel as if he could do anything, as if he could reach towards them and escape the crummy parade that was his life. They made him stop and complemate viability, wishing that he could disappear within their calming clutches and finally get away from the weight of the world that was the burden resting upon his shoulders. It would be his dream come true - to be free from all responsibilities, only relishing within their beauty and grace. Something that only a teenager with problems like him would ever wish her. If he could fly that high, he would be free from everything. The saying was 'wish upon a star', wasn't it? It made Danny laugh; irony always did that to him.

Or it could be the icy coldness that resides in the air at night, but that was only natural for a supernatural being like himself. The core beside his human heart, constructed purely of ice and ectoplasmic energy, yearned for the colder temperatures. All undead beings practically lived off the cold, save for those with a fire core. While a ghost (or, half-ghost in Danny's unusual case) has a naturally hypothermic temperature, Danny's ice core and abilities only dropped his temperature further; if he were a normal human, he'd be dead. In fact, if he were a normal human, he wouldn't have to endure the torture he recieved at home. Something inside told him that he should just end everything there and then, but something else stopped him. Like he had a purpose in this world - pfft, why would a lanky 14-year-old like himseld have a place meant for him, when his parents told him we was only a 'worthless shit bag' and a 'pathetic, screw-up ghost freak' everyday? Why would he be more important then anyone in the tanned Californian crowds when he was just an 'irritaing brat'? Because his ghost powers were not special - they were a burden. They caused trouble, his torture. They were the reason that there were holes in his bedroom wall.

It was their fault and their fault only.

Danny let out a long sigh and glanced to his left, where the yellow lights of houses smattered the ragged horizon like those beautiful stars in the midnight sky. A playful breeze toyed with his tousled raven hair, brushing away the strands that kept the white streak that symbolised his pain hidden. He didn't care - no one was around to disrupt the beautiful peace, to judge him, to maul him until he was weak and helpless. Nothing mattered apart from the calming silence. The grass of the hillside was damp against his loose-fitting black skinny jeans and emerald strands stuck to the worn fabric of his favourite maroon shirt, but he ignored the wetness soaking into his pale skin and allowed his mismatched eyes to waner across the constellations that spammed the midnight sky. He could see Orion; that was his least favourite one, because it reminded him of the position he used when he was going ghost. It suddenly occured to the troubled teenager that he should be getting home soon and that he was so far away that it would be morning by the time he reached the house if he walked.

Clambering to his feet, Danny stared across the Californian views and let loose a long, regretful sigh. "Goin' ghost," he mumbled his usual catchphrase, and stood stock still as the glowing blue halo appeared around his waist. It hovered for a few seconds, the glow pooling his worn navy Converse shoes in elegant azure light, before splitting into two smaller parts - the pieces moved across his body in different directions, his form changing as the familiar coronas crossed over a part of him. By the time they had dissipated, he was not Danny Fenton anymore. No, he was Danny _Phantom_. That was what the ghosts in the Ghost Zone called him, ever since his parents had put up a portal to the sickly green dimension and he had a bit of an... incident... with it. He prefered not to think about it so much; electrecution was an extremely painful way to die. Or, half-die, rather. Yes, Danny had _half died_ the day of the portal accident. Instead of icy blue eyes in human form, his left eye had gone an ectoplasmic green to represent his ghostly form - not to mention the white streak that lined his tousled raven hair.

Though, in ghost form, he looked a lot different. For starters, his hair was so white that it could put snow to shame. It would have been considered cool if his parents didn't mock him for having 'old man hair', even though it wasn't grey but simply colourless. The way it sat slightly over one eye and stayed kind of windswept stayed the same in both configurations, giving him that mysterious but strangely adorable style even if he was half-ghost, half-human. His skin was paler in his ghost form, though it didn't bother Danny; at least he wasn't green like Desiree or blue like the Box Ghost. It gave him a humane tint, though no one seemed to notice. He barely went around in his ghost form and when he did he was almost always invisble and/or intangible. Both eyes went from mismatched to the same colour as his left; an unearthly ectoplasmic green. It didn't match his ghostly white aura, but he pulled it off all the same. Instead of normal, human clothes, his Phantom side tended to keep to a black HAZMAT suit (formerly belonging to his parents) with a silver belt, gloves, boots and collar, as well as a strange DP symbol centered on his chest.

It was fitting for a ghost, to say the least.

Hovering a few feet into the air, Danny took a deep breath and allowed his face to errupt into a exhilerated grin. Although his ghost form was a burden to carry, it felt amazing to be able to _fly._ If only he could get high enough to reach the stars without suffocating to die... again. Or was it half-die, again? He wasn't entirely sure anymore. But right now, he wanted to forget about that haunting (no pun intended) prospect and just get into the air. So that's what he did. Without a second thought the teenage halfa shot into the air, his legs automatically morphing into a slinky spectral tail as a result of his brilliant speed. The strong breeze was icy and numbing against his pale skin but he only smiled and flew even faster in the direction he knew was where home was. Sometimes he didn't know why he returned each night. Where else would he go? The only friend he has was his derpy Joshua 'Joshy' Jallace, who's parents didn't enjoy his precense and would barely even let Joshy call him up every so often on the weekends. It was frustrating, but both teenagers put up with it; Danny loved Joshy as a best friend because he knew he would always be there. He even accepted Danny as the kid with the 'awesome ghost powers'. Their friendship was special, to say the least. Danny relished in it's mere existence.

With a thrilled laugh (something that came out of his mouth very rarely), Danny twisted himself into a graceful backflip mid-air before nosediving towards a paticular house just by the coastal neighborhood beside his own. It was a rough part of California, but he didn't mind. Sometimes he was able to escape onto the beach just after school and take a peaceful walk along the golden sand, his shoes wet in the placid waves that lapped the quiet shore. No one really went to the area that he liked - something he was extremely thankful for. But he didn't feel like going there right now. He kind of wanted to sleep; hopefully, his parents were doing just that by the time he got into his bedroom. As he neared the building, he allowed the ecto-blast to die down and phased smoothly through the wall he had seen the inside of all too much.

And as he went to transform back into his Danny Fenton half to get into his pajamas, he sung. Quietly, but it was there.

 _"As a child you would wait_

 _And watch from far away._

 _But you always knew that you'd be the one_

 _That work while they all play._

 _In youth you'd lay_

 _Awake at night and scheme_

 _Of all the things that you would change,_

 _But it was just a dream!_

 _Hereee we are, don't turn aaaway now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town_

 _from dust..._

 _The time will come_

 _When you'll have to rise_

 _Above the best and prove yourself,_

 _Your spirit never dies!_

 _Farewell,_

 _I've gone to take my throne above,_

 _But don't weep for me_

 _'Cause this will be_

 _The labor of my love._

 _Here we are, don't turn away now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town._

 _Here we are, don't turn away now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town_

 _From dust._

 _Here we are, don't turn away now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town._

 _Here we are, don't turn away now,_

 _We are the warriors that built this town_

 _From dust..."_

Danny barely even realised that, by the time he had finished singing to himself, he was already asleep.

. . .

"DANIEL FENTON! GET YOUR WORTHLESS ASS DOWN HERE BEFORE I COME AND BEAT IT!"

Ugh. Waking up could possibly be more of a struggle then his life after a night of flying. With a dreading groan, the ghostly teenager allowed his multicoloured eyes to flicker open only to see a blinding stream of golden light pooling underneath his window. Had he been so distracted that he had forgotten to close his curtains after phasing through them? How dumb can he be sometimes? Another thought made his stomach swell up in fear; his _abusive_ parents had just yelled for him, and he hadn't even gotten out of bed yet! Suddenly panicked, Danny threw on the clothes he had worn yesterday (and thankfully, they were dry) and raced down the stairs to see the angered faces of Jack and Maddie Fenton glaring at him, fists grasping a beer bottle and the chair they were stood next to. _How the fuck can you drink this early in the morning?_ Danny thought with a pang of fear, ducking underneath smooth raven locks with an untrusting expression. It had always been this way - ever since his own father had brutally murdered his older sister _in front of his seven-year-old eyes_ , he had looked at them with terror that just won't leave the pit in his heart.

Freezing as Maddie headed towards him, Danny carefully manovered himself around the other side of the table and watched her movements through terrified mistmatched eyes. "Danny," she growled, making the teenager jump, "come here, right now. We just have to tell you something, that's all!" Her violet eyes were darkened and Danny nodded, backing into the fridge absent-mindedly. With ragged breaths, Danny listened reluctantly to what his mother was saying to him. Her gentle voice was scary to him; he'd never known anyone but Joshy who would act this kind to him without betraying him moments after.  
"Danny, your father and I have been thinking. There aren't enough ghosts coming to California, even though we keep that ghost portal open nearly all the time. Even if you're one of those... disgusting parasites... we'll need somewhere where there are more ghosts." _I'll show you a disgusting parasite, bitch._

"So... we're moving house?" Danny spoke carefully, and stayed frozen against the fridge as his father took a long sip of heavily alcoholic beer. _Ugh,_ Danny thought, disgusted. He didn't understand how his parents could drink so early in the morning...

"Yea," the burly man snarled, making Danny jump again, "to some place called Amity Park. But don't think that we're getting off your tail, worthless brat. You'll get the same treatment as you get here." _Tail. What a funny word._

"We'll have a new lab and everything. Jack is gonna get a new dissection table and everything!"

"Of course he will," Danny rolled his eyes sarcastically, then suddenly regretted it. He'd just done something very, very wron-

"What did I just see?" Jack suddenly growled, fully turning towards Danny with his jaw tightened.

"N-no..." Danny willed himself to phase through the fridge, but his body was ridgid and unmoving with terror. None of his ghostly abilities were working out of his stupid fear of getting hit! Shaking his head in dread, Danny backed away into the nearest wall and patted the latch on the window, fingers fumbling to unlock the latch on it. His dad, all the while smiling demonically, lugged down the rest of his beer and stalked towards the shivering form of his son like a wolf approaching its terrified prey. _No, no, no..._ Danny pressed his head against the wall, realising what was coming to him.

"Don't lie to me, _ghost brat_ ," Jack raised the beer bottle above Danny's head, watching through uncaring midnight blue eyes.

"N-no.. it wasn't d-dad... I p-p-promise i-it wasn't!" Danny tried phasing again, but his body was still locked in panic mode. Dumb _panic attacks_ \- he'd been a casualty of his parents' drinking problem and stereotyping personalities for so long that he'd begun to develop them whenever he felt like he was in danger of being abused again. It wasn't like he could help it, he really couldn't, he just hated the aftershock of having a panic attack. This one seemed more minor, but he was still in compete 'I'm gonna die' mode. His breath had gone ragged with terror and his mismatched eyes widened in their sockets, the teenager only feeling his heart beating faster as Jack stalked towards his shivering form. If Danny had an ounce of control over his ghost powers he'd have already phased through the wall and made a run - well, fly - for it. Even if he knew he'd have to come back. His parents were prepared for when he tried to escape; the Booooomerang was always handy for them, since it was locked onto his unusual ecto-signature permenantly. They weren't dumb (though some could pass off Jack as 'out of it') and knew how to get him back home; he wasn't entirely sure why, or how. Didn't they just want to get rid of him?

Suddenly something hard and sharp smashed into his head with unmistakeable force and Danny cried out in pain, instantly collapsing against the rough wall. Blood, infused with swirls of sickly green ectoplasm, trickled down the side of his cheek and dripped off his chin, the irritating headache morphing into an agonising migrane. The world around him spun like a haunting merry-go-round and Danny found himself disorentated and whimpering out of fear. "Lie to me again, I dare ya," Jack snarled drunkenly, aiming a boot to Danny's ribcage. The teenager gasped hoarsely as it knocked the wind out of his bruised lungs, falling into a fetal position and wrapping his arms protectively around his head to keep it away from kicking range.

"I'm... I'm s-sorr- agh," Danny let out a low moan as a sharp burst of pain shot through his entire shoulder, biting back an agonised scream. Something warm ran down his arm and dribbled off his elbow, and the aching throb in his shoulder remained. Gasping hoarsly in shock, Danny looked up to see that both of his parents had left the room and he was alone. His hand moved to the stinging area and he felt something sharp poking out of the broken skin. Jack... Jack had stabbed him? With a low whimper, Danny manouvered himself into a sitting position and let loose a long, shaky sigh, moving his quivering hands to pull out whatever had impaled his shoulder. Dull mismatched eyes stared at the bloodied object in his hand; a shattered piece of beer bottle, the one that Jack had smacked his head with as a punishment for his sarcastic attitude. Ectoplasm-infused blood continued to trickle down his arm and his body was wracked in a violent shudder as he clambered to his feet. On shaky legs he walked to the door that would lead to the basement (the lab) - he knew that his parents were down their, but he could just go invisible. They had his ecto samples in there and he needed one if he was going to heal without a hefty scar. That would be far too obvious in gym class, if he was ever going back to Biffany High School.

Apparantly, their new location was infested with ghosts that were escaping from a portal to the Ghost Zone, beknownst to Amity Park's innocent residents. That was why they were moving away from sunny old California - for the specters that roamed the streets. There was a school there, ironically named Casper High School, that he would be attending. He was so looking foward to that... not. He had heard of a place named the Nasty Burger too; apparantly a popular fast-food joint and hangout area for the teenagers all over Amity Park. According to research he had done on Casper High (you can never be too careful), some old hag named Mr. Lancer had told his students that working at the Nasty Burger was the fate to those failing students who were doomed to fall through academically. Through more research, it had been once torn down by his worst enemies the Guys in White, who were under the impression that there were ghosts haunting the area and rebuilt into an adults-only hangout named McMasters - his _uncle's_ doing.

Yaaay.

Pushing his disorientated body into his ghost form, Danny phased through the door to the lab and floated downstairs while invisible. Indeed, his parents were both working on some sort of new ecto-bazooka (guess who'd have to give them pure ectoplasm from the ghost zone to power the darn thing?) and had not detected his presence yet. _Good_ , Danny thought, holding his head to draw out the lightheadedness he was experiencing from minor bloodloss. The wound wasn't fatal, but while he was weakened he'd need an inch or so of ectoplasm to help his ghost half with a successful healing process. Emerald eyes caught onto a discarded sample in a test tube just beside the ghost portal (which was thankfully shut) and Danny mentally cheered until a sharp voice pulled him out of his brief victory.

"Danny, I hope that's not you floating around behind me. What are you doing?"

 _Obviously, I'm eating a burrito. No spectral shit goin' on over in this party._

With a moan of pain, Danny plopped his feet lightly onto the ground and allowed himself the forgiving release of becomng visible again. "It's me..." he whispered fearfully, watching with careful eyes as both parents continued to work on the ecto-bazooka. "Look... I just need some ectoplasm... please, or there will be a scar and-" A large Coca-Cola bottle full to the brink of a familiar glowing green substance was tossed in his direction and the ghostly teenager caught it with lightning reflexes.

"We don't need a scar now, do we?" Maddie purred kindly, making Danny tense up in slight terror.

"Uh.. thank y-you," the ghost-kid stuttered, breathing slightly ragged out of bloodloss. He dwadled awkwardly for a brief moment before suddenly remembering that he had been impaled and phasing out of the lab noiselessly. It was strange to hear his mother's voice being so kind and forgiving when he knew that she had hurt him purposefully before. Beatings, kicks, punches to the stomach... that was all she usually gave him on a _good_ day. There had been one time when she had put a blood blossom into his sandwhich and he literally had to phase his hand into himself to get it out. The mere memory sent dreadful shudders violently shaking his body - ghosts + blood blossoms = screaming, screaming, screaming. A delightful process, to say the least. But her tone had actually been... motherly.

Such an odd word to a troubled teenager like himself.

. . .

"Class! Settle down now; I have an important announcement!" Mr. Lancer flailed around at the front of the room, his heavy beer belly wobbling as he waved his arms to get the students' attention. Only a few pupils bothered to listen to him; the nutbag English teacher had never really had control over his class, even though he loved to teach them. Their sarcastic senses of humor made teaching somewhat entertaining and occasionally he would chuckle at their comical attitdes, watching through proud jade eyes as Tucker argued jokingly with Sam or as Kwan attempted to gently soften Dash's difficult mood. It made him laugh inside, though he tried to keep his proffesional tinge on the outside. Secretly he was so proud of how grown up yet childish his class could be. They were good people with good intentions... sometimes, he was ashamed to say that he _did_ have favourites. It had to be Tucker Foley ("that's T.F for Too Fine") and Samantha Manson (never call her Samantha or be murdered). They were best friends; different from everyone else in the class but perfectly content with that. While they were complete polar opposites, they were comfortable with each other and stood up for one another. He really hoped that they'd take in the new student as a friend. Maddie Fenton had told Mr. Lancer over the phone that they were moving to Amity Park from California, and that Danny was really upset that he was leaving.

At the back of the room, Tucker proceeded to clumsily shush a laughing Sam before the entire class went dead silent to allow Mr. Lancer to speak.

"Okay. So, I have been informed by the princible that our class is recieving a new student on Monday. His name is Daniel Fenton - apparantly, he prefers Danny - and he is moving from California to Amity Park tomorrow, I think. I'd really like it if you guys were friendly towards Danny? According to his mother, he really loves California and is upset that they are leaving," Mr. Lancer glanced at his watch; 8:15am, "you may continue talking until class begins." The students errupted into excited chatter almost instantly, everyone enlivened that they'd be getting another kid in the classroom. While Dash was probably happy about a new punching bag prospect and Paulina was questioning the teacher whether he was good-looking and muscular ("I don't know, Paulina. Go back to your seat!"), Sam and Tucker weren't really thrilled about it... until Mr. Lancer called them up to his desk five minutes later.

"What is it, sir?" Sam questioned innocently, her fake tone and grin making Tucker snort.

"I need you two to help Danny sett-"

"WHAT?! Why do we have to do it?!" Tucker gawked, a hand slapping onto his forehead in minor shock, "we're the nerds, sir! Danny sounds like a jock or somethin', and we don't fit in well with those." It was true; they didn't.

"Shh, Tucker. I need you to understand that the following reason is personal to Danny, and that you two must keep it between yourselves. When Danny was only seven-years-old, he went through something that no child that age should go through. He was forced to watch as a thief brutally murdered his sister in front of him; according to his mother, he was scarred ever since," Mr. Lancer lowered his voice slightly.

"Oh my God," Sam breathed in disbelief, "that's... that's _horrific_..."

"Also, he tends to get panic attacks when threatened by someone, so I'd need you two to look out for him, okay?" Lancer offered them a smile, full of pride beknownst to the two teenagers. "He's not so good with new people, but he's a good-natured boy according to his mother."

"W-why us?" Tucker stuttered after a shocked silence.

"Because I trust you the most."

. . .

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 **So that's the end of Chapter One!**

 **Please review!** **They keep an author motivated for the next chapter.**

 **If I get... more then 4 reviews... then I'll do a new chapter!**

 **-Kinetic.**


	2. Chapter 02: Of Moving and Discoveries

_I forgot to add this, but I don't own Danny Phantom or that song (the song was Warriors by Imagine Dragons)_

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 **Traumatized  
** a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

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 **Chapter 02:**  
Of Moving and Discoveries

. . .

Most could say that Danny Fenton despised lengthened car journeys simply because of the effect the deafening rumble of the engines has on his sensitive ears. Of course he didn't exactly enjoy the stetorian noise; ever since the Fenton Ghost Portal incident had occured one shoddy mistake ago, he had found himself disliking any pandenomium that happened to be a tad louder then what his heightened senses had expected. It happened to be the exact same with every other ghost he had encountered in his lifetime, so it must just be a spectral prospect. But, if you knew his family and their hobbies well enough, everyone would realise just how _horrific_ their supposed RV was and how cringeworthy Danny found it - if he was going to be moving away from California, couldn't they at least take the time to grab a few plane tickets? That would be a whole lot better for the new reputation Danny planned to bring up... and allow to collapse again (seriously, he's a ghost, not a social connoisseur! What were you expecting? Danny was expecting at least a burrito or a Subway footlong, that was for sure).

If one were to set your eyes upon the Fenton Ghost Assult Vehicle (GAV), Danny thought they'd surely gag. For starters, it was basically a fucking tank; ginormous in size with a set of two road wheels, wrapped into place by a strip of solid rubber catepillar tracks. Just in front of those were, thank Clockwork for them being nearly normal, car wheels - average save for the fact that they were huge ("like my dad's ego," Danny had often said to Joshy, who would snigger quietly and nod in agreement). Then there was the silvery colouring, which might have looked pretty much ordinary if it wasn't for the ectoplasmic green flame ball with the letter 'F' in the centre of it on the side of the GV - guess who had to shed them a bit of his ecto-blood for them to achieve that perfect colour for the decorations? It was not that burrito that Danny longed for, to say the least, although Danny wished it was. Of course Danny did have one problem with eating _normal_ food for _normal_ humans; it made him seriously ill. He had to have traces of ectoplasm on everything mortal (gee, he sounds like freaking Skulker at this rate), which made it extremely awkward in school at lunch.

But he was going to a new school now...

 _Damn Casper High. Damn Amity Park. Damn dad. Damn mom. Damn my life, for Clockwork's sake!_ Danny grumbled mentally, watching through dull multicoloured eyes as Jack lugged another bag into the storage compartment of the GAV.

"Dad, do we _have_ to take the RV? Seriously, a plane journey isn't that expensive. And can we stop for a burrito on the way?" the raven-haired teenager asked depserately, pulling a black zip-up hoodie on over one of his favourite shirts and letting a long sigh loose. He had settled on a simple outfit today; a pair of black Converse shoes, black loose-fitting skinny jeans and a pale grey t-shirt, as well as the hoodie mentioned just before. It was nice, Danny had decided. His hair was looking nicer then usual too, still toused but in an adorable kind of way and his familiar white streak hanging just on the edge of his messy bangs. Some people looked odd with messy hair, but Joshy had convinced Danny that he pulled it off with a "sexy attitude", whatever that meant. Danny hadn't been listening that day, too busy to focus because he had been too preoccupied on hiding a painfully purple bruise with some leftover foundation in the girls loos (... um...). And apparantly, the way he was lanky but still strangely charming had this odd girl named Theresa Fowler **{1}** down in a daze, according to Joshy and his sneaky spying skills.

There was a muffled growl from an angry Jack and the broad, drunken man turned to glare at him with viscious midnight blue eyes. "Did I ever allow you to have a choice about a choice of motor vehicle?" he snarled, drawing his face so close to Danny that the anxious teenager was actually close to passing out from the heavy scent of raspberry beer and smoke, "shut up, douchebag. We don't give a damn about what you'd like to voice. Get into the RV already - and don't you dare sit in the front. You're in the back, where you belong, ghost freak." Shuddering slightly, Danny decided it was best to oblige and light-footedly bounded towards the horrifically designed GAV. If he were to be honest, he'd say that he was perfectly content in settling on the bench at the back of the vehicle. It was dark, but comfortable and quiet - just how he enjoyed it. Besides, it was away from his parents. Hauling the door open, Danny silently nosedived over the front seat before collapsing backwards into the padded bench that sat against the metallic wall.

No doubt would his mother come along and put on those dumb ghost-proof handcuffs. Those were extremely tedious to get off, phasing through them being near to impossible as he would receive punishment in the form of a sharp electrical shock for his escaping actions. So he never tried anymore. Not that he didn't care about them being on - it was just that he had been through far too much electrical torture in his life. First it was that darn taser that Danny had long destroyed, then it was the ghost portal incident (that being the worst one yet), next _another_ taser which was yet to be found halfway into Danny's bedroom wall. Now his parents had some sort of prodder that could deliver quite a shock when he least expected it. That thing was just plain invading. After a while, the raven-haired teenager had eventually gone numb to that kind of stuff. It was hard to feel pain when you've experienced too much of it throughout your life.

 _Man, I really need a burrito._

 _Where's Desiree when I need her?_

Letting out a long puff of breath, Danny catiously watched through multicoloured eyes as Maddie clambered onto the GAV with a pair of glowing green handcuffs in her dainty fingers. He pressed himself against the green-streaked wall as a weak attempt to delay her oncoming, but the slender woman simply ignored his defensive attitude and stalked closer. Right about now, Danny was trying hard to not let out a small giggle. She did look a little funny trying to appear as menacing but also having to crouch away from the RV's ceiling at the same time. There was a brief pause from both as she stopped to bend down beside him, before Danny finally broke and he had to literally force his laughter back after a snort escaped his mouth. The woman's face was _priceless_. "Hi," he greeted shortly, eyeing the cuffs in her hands.

"Gimme your hands, ghost freak," Maddie hissed, no sympathy or kindness even traced onto her serious features.

If you were wondering why Danny never called Jack or Maddie as their official parental titles, it was because that he had never really thought of them as who they really didn't try hard to be. Did parents hunt ghosts for a living? Did parents abuse their teenage child until he was basically unconscious because he was a little different to the rest? Did a normal mother handcuff their teenage child everytime they went on a car journey for longer then ten minutes? Did a normal father _murder_ an innocent eleven-year-old girl in front of their seven-year-old son? They don't, do they? So why should Danny call then his parents if all of those things applied to their family? They were just the people who payed the bills, the people who... kind of... supplied him with enough ectoplasm to keep living for another day. Without that supply of ectoplasmic energy Danny was just about a goner. Since he was only a half-ghost, his central ice core wasn't producing enough ectoplasm to keep him alive like a full ghost's core would; without constant access to a Ghost Zone portal, he wouldn't have nearly enough energy to keep living.

Putting his wrists forward with a bored grumble, Danny stared just over her shoulder to watch Jack clumsily clamber into the driver's seat. _Fantastic, Jack's driving_ , he thought with a low snort of dread, barely even flinching as the clink of handcuffs rang into the RV's clogged atmosphere. The ringing sound was strangely familiar to the boy and the greenish glow that pooled his black Converse shoes gave the back of the tank-like vehicle an eiree feel to it, though Danny didn't mind so much. A cold, metallic feeling was pressed against his wrists loosely, but he didn't even notice it. These handcuffs were far too familiar to him for reacting when they were put on, though sometimes he did strain against them when they were too tight for comfort. Today, luckily, they were loose enough for him to have circulation but firm enough to disallow movement. Watching carefully as Maddie got up and sat in her own seat beside Jack's drivers one, the raven-haired halfa stared blankly at the floor just above the top of his shoes. That was the only thing that he could really do.

Isn't his family just _swell?_

"Do I have to have these on?" Danny whined as the engine sprung to life, his multicoloured eyes focusing onto the back of Maddie's head.

"Yes, because we don't a ghost scum like you to try and hurt us on the way to Amity Park. Sit tight and quit complaining," the tall woman responded curtly; her violet eyes spun around to face him with such intensity that he flinched away from the death glare and resorted to shifting uncomfortably on the padded bench. At least he had time to think on this car journey.

As far as he was aware, Jack and Maddie were having the Ops Centre transported to their new house a few days after they arrive there. Danny wasn't looking forward to being that 'scrawny kid with the weird house and strange parents' in school. It wasn't as if there were going to be any ghosts, so why would they even need it? Unless they were actually going to bother putting another ghost portal up in the supposed basement of the new house, there was no way a natural portal would open up anywhere near Amity Park. For a natural portal to come alive, you'd need someone else's ghost portal to be nearby; therefore, if they put up another working portal it would be their fault that the ghosts keep coming. It's only a ghosts' nature to go through a new portal because they are curious (and really annoying in Boxy's case) creatures, although most people seem to think that they just like planning evil schemes. Sure, Plasmius and Undergrowth maybe, but some ghosts like Skulker seem to only be searching for _him_ and were not interested in taking over the world like Vlad was.

Then there was the prospect of school, which Danny actually found terrifying. For starters, Danny couldn't make friends for the life of him; when he introduced himself to new people, it tended to just go: "Uh... hi, my name is Daniel Fenton - no, I'm not insanely into ghost hunting like my parents, whoever you are at the back - but call me... uh... oh yeah, call me Danny". By that time, people are sniggering because he forgot his own name. Sure, he's made friends before, but it took a while and he was moving away from them now. They were still going to bring the computer over, so Danny could video call Joshy if he really wanted to. Then there was the fact that he wasn't really the brightest in a classroom. Yeah, he could do science; there were some pros to those many cons of living with two ghost hunters/scientists. While he could shoot a specter with a gun that no one has ever really seen before with no trouble at all, he could barely keep a plant alive for a day (but that was because he was basically made of ectoplasmic radiation, and that stuff killed plants like literal wildfire!).

And what about his ghost powers? Would he tell anyone about them or keep them a secret? He already knew that his parents would keep it quiet; they had no interest in allowing the press or the Guys in White to invade their home. As far as anyone knew, they were a normal family with a little bit of an oddball hobby. In a few weeks time they were going to the town hall and doing a ghost weapon protocall, meaning Danny would have to duplicate himself, put one copy into ghost form as a 'deadly foe' while the other put the guns together in human form. Goody goody. He'd done it before, to be honest he didn't really feel the blasts because Danny would always make sure that they were on stun and not kill. Not that kill could actually harm him, because they were pretty tacky. The thermos rides at the end was always fun, though (he actually sleeps in there, when he can do it without his parents shaking it to wake him up halfway through the night. Made a good hideout).

Stifling a yawn, Danny flopped back against the wall and closed his eyes.

He was asleep before he even knew it was possible.

. . .

"Danny... wake up already!"

The drowsy teenager cracked his groggy multicoloured orbs open, moving (two, he guessed, since he was still handcuffed) shaking hand(s) up to his smooth raven hair to brush it out of the way. It fell back into its previous place over his left eye and he let out a long, exhausted groan; he straightened himself up and stretched his sore back. Directly in front of him was the demanding face of Maddie Fenton, her violet eyes hardened and lipstick-smothered mouth pursed into a straight line. Danny flinched as the RV swerved into a corner, slamming his aching shoulders into the padded bench he had been contently dozing on. The movement was enough to jarr him awake fully and his fuddled brain managed to decipher the situation - Jack was quite obviously still driving the RV, Maddie was watching him wake himself up and maybe the handcuffs... Tensing, Danny lifted his hands up to reveal that the glowing green restraints were still around his wrists and felt even tighter then they were before. "W-why'd you wake me up?" the teenager grumbled sleepily, licking his soft-looking lips to rid of their dryness.

"We needed to remind you about the ghost weapon showcase," Maddie hissed in response, before turning and slinking back to her seat. With a deadpanned expression, Danny narrowed his multicoloured eyes at the back of her head. Was there any need to awake him from his slumber for that? It had been haunting (excuse the pun) him for a week now - it wasn't because of being basically a guniea pig for their weapons, it meant that he had to duplicate. That wasn't a painful process though, it just took a lot of energy to sustain both forms through two different copies of himself, both working busily and quickly to get things done. Afterwards he could quite literally sleep for three days straight; not that he was complaining, because he really did like to sleep. _Which is why I'm mad for you waking me up, Maddie,_ he growled mentally, throwing the back of her head a cold glare. Inwardly longing for a burrito, the teenager strained for at least a glimpse of the outdoor world - there were barely any windows in the damn RV, but his sharp eyesight could just about make out a small gap in the wall that seperated the drivers' seat and the... back bit? It's a 'bit bewteen the driver bit and the storage thingy thats actually a bathroom' more then anything.

For a moment, swirls of natural green colours were all he could see, until they broke away in leaf-shaped slices to reveal a gorgeous aqua sky. The porthole was small, almost too small for him to notice the sharp edges belonging to a skyscraper of some sort slicing into a clump of candyfloss pink clouds. A vibrant flash of words blurred past the glass apeture and Danny's keen vision briefly caught the words 'Amity', 'nice' and 'live' in the streak of colour. From what he had gathered, Danny guessed that it said something along the lines of "Amity Park: a nice place to live!" or something cheesy like that. With a muffled groan of displeasure, Danny listened hard to Jack's constant squeals as he rounded the RV around sharp corners and through red traffic lights at a speed that Danny wasn't so sure he could beat in ghost form even. They were amusing and passed the time, with Danny taking the time to notice that they ranged from a low 'aah' to a highpitched 'oh my god ah!' There was even the sound of the window opening and a voice (very loudly) stating that 'you should get the heck off the road with your crappy Ford Fiesta, Mrs. Look-At-Me-Texting-While-Driving!'

 _I need a burrito._

. . .

Sam Manson had never really known exactly why she enjoyed midnight strolls more then most fellow night critters. Being more into the gothic areas of humanity, she had always just assumed that it was because she would rather shred other people apart rather then party along with them. There were two things she had always been comfortable with; one was silence, the other was darkness. Midnight walks helpfully supplied both aspects, so that was most likely why she loved taking them. Though sometimes she would grow lonely - it made having a loyal friend such as Tucker Foley such a big treat. The dark-skinned, flirty techno-geek was one of the only people who had actually accepted her for who and what she decided to be everyday. He saw nothing but a great friend in her, according to his mother. Sometimes she would knock on his bedroom window (after spending a precious 10 minutes of her time to scramble ungracefully up a strangely strong drainage pipe) and he would almost always accept her invitation to join her on a midnight stroll in the park. He would know just how to understand Sam when her emotions were nothing but a swirling pit of rage and when to be silent around her. It had never been anything romantic to her, though she trusted Tuck with anything except for her crushes - he could be a _huge_ blabbermouth sometimes. Not that she had any crushes, of course.

That was where she found herself now; trekking slowly through Amity Park's Central Park beside a shivering Tucker Foley, unable to wriggle her numbed toes in the steel caps of her dark combat boots and unable to stop her teeth from chattering. It was an icy evening, but both teenagers were willing to get some peace from taking a slow stroll. There were no other humanoid actualities around, the only creatures being a silky grey squirrel or a slender vixen fox stalking around the ditches for anything that could make a filling meal. The sight of one made Sam smile slightly, though she would always keep quiet about it. Tucker wouldn't really care anyway - the screen of his PDA was already lighting up his aqua eyes. When that piece of junk was turned on, there was no getting him off it until you said the word 'Nasty Burger' or 'meat'.

Having resorted to admiring the peaceful views around her, Sam paused briefly before deciding to speak out. "Tuck, what do you think that new boy will be like?" she asked, tone softened in order to not startle the PDA out of the boy's dark-skinned hands. He looked up at her with owlish teal eyes.

"I don't know. The name 'Danny' makes him sound a bit like a jock," he lifted both shoulders in a short shrug, shoving the PDA into one of many pockets with a widened grin, "I bet you're hoping he's hot."

A fake gasp enveloped her pale features, though her violet eyes didn't suggest any sign of shock. "I do _not_ ," she gawked in a fake tone, "I just want to know whether he'd be a complete cheese-head or not, that's all. If you were gay-" she cast Tucker a playful snicker, "-then I would say the exact same thing."

"Cheese-head?"

"Y'know, a wonky jerk."

" _Wonky Jerk_?"

"Stop judging my insults, Tuck."

"Fine, fine."

The two were left with another silence, Sam only basking in the beautiful quietness that washed over them - only for it to be rudely interuppted by a panicked shriek from her best friend. Glancing at him with wide violet eyes, the gothic teenager was rather dismayed to find that he was shying away from something invisible to her in the deep obyss of the dark fields. She grabbed the back of his mustard yellow shirt without a second thought and stared at what he was freaking out over. "I can't see it, Tucker. What in the world are you looking at?" she hissed into his ear, making her friend jump. The dark-skinned teen looked at her with anxious aqua eyes, Sam being partly relaxed at how much he had seemed to calm down. Whatever had startled him could not have been too bad, right? _He looked pretty nervous_ , she thought, suddenly becoming more panicked then she should have. Then Tucker jerked his head up towards the glittering sky, a gasp rushing out from the back of his throat. Sam followed his terrified eyeline and was about to vocalise her utter confusion when she saw just what he was staring at fearfully.

There was someone there.

And they were _floating_.

Instead of squealing in terror, Sam only took the time to study the otherwordly humanoid in front of them. _It_ tooked to be around their age, with a tall gangly build that caused Sam to mentally dub it as a he. There was a freakishly eiree white glow that enveloped his slender frame, making him look rather sinister to the gothic teenager. That was saying something, wasn't it? He was facing the two, staring at them owishlly with unearthly green eyes that seemed to illuminate the calming darkness around them. They weren't your average greenish colour, though; they were hued a hypnotising ectoplasm colour, only appearing more entising the more he widened them in his state of... shock? Snowy white hair flopped over his left eye slightly, ruffled from his position in the darkening skies yet sexily tousled at the same time. It could honestly put snow shame with the whitish aura too. His skin looked pale and unblemished, though for some sort of ghost (Sam had only seen creatures like the Box Ghost or maybe Skulker floating around Amity Park) he appeared rather humane. The outfit he wore was odd - a black HAZMAT suit, with a silvery belt, boots, collar and gloves, as well as a strange DP symbol on his chest.

"Who the heck is that?" Sam asked, though she found she was questioning herself more then Tucker or Mr. Float-And-Glow over there. She continued to stare at him until he started to faulter in the air, a nervous smile spreading over pale skin, before he literally just poofed away into a sickly cloud of green and black smoke. By the time it had dissipated, it was gone.

"What the..." Tucker glanced towards Sam, his jaw hanging in complete shock.

* * *

 **That's the end of Chapter Two!**

 **I hope you guys enjoyed. Sorry it was a bit tacky and some holes in the story are left but oh well. Next chapter there are things that need to be cleared up; remember that I'm still only 12 and I have school to tackle, homework to juggle, people to avoid ect., so chapters cannot come as quickly as this one did. I woke up early (5:20am) just to finish this for you all!**

 **{1} - RC9GN REFERENCE FTW!**

 **Reviews keep an author motivated and happy!**

 **Love you all!**

 **-Kinetic**


	3. Chapter 03: The Ghost Weapon Showcase

_Thank you so much to anyone who followed, favourited and reviewed!_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 03:  
** The Ghost Weapon Showcase

. . .

Have you ever heard of a language known to the GZ's residents as 'Ghost Speak'? While it isn't widely known to the entire planet, a certain halfa fourteen-year-old halfa residing with a oddball family certainly knew of its existence - he _did_ vocalise it fluently enough, seeing as he was half-ghost, half-human. Ever since the portal incident had occured, Danny Fenton had found himself accidently slipping into the mysterious jargon when he felt nervous, excited or angry at extreme ratios. Sometimes it came out as quick, nearly untranslatable yet strangely clear Esperanto, while the other times he spoke out in random languages such as French, German, Hungarian or even Japanese. It was only natural for an unusual being like himself, counting the fact that he was half-ghost, though most found it extremely tedious. They would often gawk in either shock or down right confusion when they noticed their local friendly Casper - A.K.A, Danny Phantom - trying to get the Box Ghost into one of many dented Fenton Thermos things, speaking in complete jibberish all the while frowning at how the offending specter actually understood what he was speaking about.

But that was what they thought of Danny Phantom in California. Just the oddball ghost kid with a friendly personality and the most charming, lopsided grin they had ever seen on a ghost like himself. To say the least, he was different to the other specters. He smiled and laughed along with random citizens and was perfectly content in floating about just for the sake of having an affable conversation most of the time. The other reason he hovered around town was to rid of any ghosts who dared to attack _his_ residence. Everyone liked Phantom, save the strange Fenton crew (excluding their quiet son, who didn't really have an opinon about him to share openly), because of how friendly he was. Sometimes he was even caught on camera and instead of darting away from the spotlight he'd grin, wave and set his two feet on the ground to answer any questions. As far as anyone knew, he had died in California a while ago by some electrecution accident and had stayed around ever since. That was what he had ever told anyone; no details, no names, no nothing.

But now Danny was moving away from the humble coastal beaches of California.

" _Mi ne volis malproksimigi_ ," **("I didn't want to move away")** Danny mumbled under his breath in fluent Esperantonian, multicoloured eyes darkening as he glanced away from the piles of boxes that were stacked up inside of the GAV. " _Kompreneble, mi tenía narr_ ," **("Of course, I had to")** The shivering teenager mentally noted that he had accidently used Esperantonian, then Spanish, then Danish. Whoops. With a lacklustered sigh, Danny levered himself off the comfortable padded bench and stood numbly in the back of the storage compartment of the Fenton Family Ghost Assult Vehicle. Sizeable boxes, at least thirteen or fourteen of them, had been stacked into clustered piles just after they had woken up Saturday morning in their new house, which was actually rather nice (excluding the fact that it was literally a red brick square with a metal Ops Centre soon to be attached onto the roof). It would have been a party for the Box Ghost, if he were here. Oh, how he missed California.

Each cardboard coffer contained a different type of Fenton Ghost Weapon - there were the classical Fenton Ecto-Rays, Fenton Thermoses, the Fenton Boooooo-merangs and even a few Fenton Wrist Rays. Since they had only decided to bring the original creation and one spare, the boxes were mainly filled with spare parts and a few recent upgrades that had yet to be attached on by Danny's original backstage. (Remember what I had said about him having to duplicate to be a willing ghost as well as the one who rushed to fix things up backstage? Yep.) Some of the boxes had yet to be lugged into the storage compartment with the others, but right now Danny was tasked with using his black (though it could be navy. He never really knew the difference between the two colours) Sharpie to label each weapon type so they don't accidently mistaken an Ecto-Ray for a Wrist Ray when it comes to the actual showcase.

Manovering himself around the box stacks, Danny grabbed the handle on the inside of the storage compartment's door and gave the door a swift, expertly-placed kick. When it shuddered violently in respose to the attack, the lanky teenager yanked the lever up with all of his (*cough*hehasnone*cough*) might. Golden sunlight streamed through the gap the door left as it suddenly flew out of the way, revealing a delicate view of the local neighborhood. It was actually quite nice, with peaceful neighbors that hadn't quite grown used to the tank that lived near their normal cars and an adorable Border Collie named Iggy that always jogged around on the warm tarmac that was the nearby road. There were little to no cars around most of the day, making the lane a perfect place to skate down. Glancing at his skateboard with a soft smile, Danny uncapped the Sharpie and got to work on labelling.

Danny was just about finished writing 'Fenton Ghost Gabber' on one of the boxes when a rather angry female voice hollered out for him from an open window.

"DANNY, GET YOUR LAZY ASS IN HERE RIGHT. NOW. _"_

Muffling a concerned groan, the raven-haired teenager straightened himself up and called out a nervous (and thankfully English) 'coming!' as a flimsy response. The black Sharpie was promptly discarded at the foot of his navy tennis shoes, his mismatched eyes staring at the pen as it rolled out of the RV and onto the tarmac. _"Malbenita,"_ **("damn")** he muttered in unintentional Esperantonian, watching it continue underneath the GAV and out of sight. He glanced towards his backpack (discarded just beside the box stacks) and stooped to grab the plastic water bottle from its unzipped opening; the ductile vessel was full to the brink of a glowing green substance, far too familiar to Danny. It was ectoplasm, something important to the teenager's very living.

If you were wondering why Danny had never left the Fenton's abusive clutches, it was for one reason and one reason only - they were the only sources of ectoplasm around. Ectoplasm was a substance that he physically required to _live_. Because of his unusual half-ghost status, the raven-haired teenager's ice core did not pump enough ectoplasmic energy into his veins to keep him strong enough to just breath. This left him rendered basically _dead_ (fully) without it. If he was allowed constant access to the Ghost Zone he would be perfectly fine, counting that he was allowed to cross into the flip-side dimension every week or so. Jack and Maddie Fenton were the only people he knew who had a working Ghost Zone portal and they had a solid supply of ectoplasm just in case he couldn't reach the portal. It wasn't as if they cared; they just _needed_ their son alive for experiments and whatnot. So Danny couldn't leave them if they wanted to live, at least he couldn't until he learnt to make proper portals manually like Clockwork can. At the moment, he could make one big enough for the tip of his pinky.

It was a start, okay?

Multicoloured orbs flashing a neon green, Danny uncapped the plastic bottle and lugged back half of its contents. The sudden flow of energy sent a dull electrical shock spiralling through his groggy nerves, the slight jolt causing his breath to hitch in the back of his throat. It wasn't entirely strong, nor was it very painful; it was just that the feeling of ectoplasmic energy infusing into his (slightly green) bloodstream was a strange process. Feeling suddenly energised, Danny looked out across the empty road and then floated inside with the bottle, feeling content that he knew how to do so in human form.

If he had looked a bit longer, he would have seen the shadowy figure watching him from afar.

. . .

"I can not _wait_ for this ghost weapon showcase, Sam! We can _finally_ learn how to take care of that dumb Box Ghost!" Tucker Foley's thumb desperately jabbed at the button that would release his secure seatbelt, his trustworthy PDA nearly tumbling out of his pockets in the panicked process all the while earning concerned stares from his best female friend. The pale-skinned goth let her purple lips slip into an amused smirk as she nonchalantly undid her own seatbelt, running a hand through her silky raven locks to check whether it was in a state fit to be seen by the now monsterous crowd gathering around some sort of ginormous stage. From beside her, Tucker was still struggling to undo his seatbelt and by the time Sam had sensibly decided to press the release button for him he was already throwing himself out of the sleek black BMW. Sam snorted, only hesitating to thank the car driver before casually slipping out to make sure he didn't escape into the bustling crowds. It still made her laugh to know how excited Tucker was to see this.

Today was a strange day; today, they were going to see some sort of ghost weapon showcase.

Apparantly, it was run by proffesional ghost hunters Jack and Maddie Fenton. They had been in the ghost hunting business ever since the very beginning of collage, according to the leaflets she had seen dotted around Amity Park lately. During their seminary years, the Fenton pair had cleverly invented something they called a 'Fenton Ghost Portal'. It was supposed to punch a tear through the world's dimentional values and allow access into a flip-side element known as the Ghost Zone; the dimension where all ghosts reside comfortably within. It had only been small apparantly, but after moving into their own coastal house in California they had re-created the portal with stronger aspects and proportions. The breakthrough in all known science had caused a ruckus within Amity Park, making the citizens wonder just where these ghosts were coming through into the living reality plain. Now, though - now the Fenton's had moved into the haunted town, with their Fenton Ghost Portal coming along for the ride.

They were supposed to showcase ghostly weaponry; it made everyone so genuienly excited! With a small smile, Sam looked around. They had parked in a tight spot, between a blue Ford Fiesta and a large red Land Rover, but it didn't make a difference. There were bustling crowds packed into the large space, chattering excitedly and waving cameras around through the complete ruckus. Basically everyone was staring desperately at the stage, which was currently empty save for...

... _save for the most gorgeous teenage boy she had ever seen._

He was darting back and forth across the stage, each time lugging boxes upon boxes with him. Sometimes he would be dragging two large boxes into a gap she couldn't see behind the red velvet curtains, one hand pushing the cardboard containers and the other grasping some sort of huge silver and green gun thing. It didn't look as if he was struggling with the weights, it looked as if he were struggling to tip something green and glowing into the barrel of the (most likely) ghost weapon with his hands being so full. Smooth raven hair was hidded underneath a clean black beanie, though a large section of it was hanging slightly over his left eye. Something white was streaked within his bangs, and Sam guessed he had dyed it. It gave him a charming, confident apperance - the way it hid part of his eye and the corner of his mouth made her heart flutter with glee, something that never usually happened to someone gothic like Sam. He wasn't smiling, but it was obvious by the way that he bit his soft-looking lips that when he did grin it was gorgeously lopsided. From here she was unable to see his eye colour, but she _could_ see his rugged cheekbones and sharp, boyish features. Were those dimples?

The clothes he wore were rather confusing, but it didn't look at all bad. The HAZMAT jumpsuit was most likely to protect him from any dangerous ectoplasmic radiation - they had an alarm for any signs of it at school because it could kill you if it touched bare skin not protected by the proper outfit. It was orange, with two black straps that crossed in an 'X' shape over his chest and torso. The black gloves, boots and belt matched it all up. It hugged against his impressive build, showing off muscles that were not ugly or too big but made his lanky shape look even better then it was before. He was _stunning._

"You starin' at the kid?" Tucker mused, suddenly appearing beside her with a meek smile on his dark-skinned features. Looking at him with frustrated violet eyes, Sam sent him her best death glare.

"N-no," she lied sheepishly, her cheeks tinting a light red colour, "I was looking at the guns. They're huge."

Tucker rolled his teal blue eyes at her. "Right... he looks as if he knows what he's doing with them, though."

"He does, doesn't he?" Sam agreed with him numbly, watching in mental shock as the raven-haired teenager expertly slipped a part onto one of those huge guns and swung it at something (an empty box, she thought). His finger pressed down on the trigger and she could briefly see a flash of dazzling emerald before a loud ' _finally!_ ' rang out from his mouth.

"Hmf. That is a very interesting piece of technology - looked to me like an ectoplasm-deterring raygun," Tucker remarked lightly, one eyebrow cocked in his puzzling state of deep thought.

With a snort, Sam began to retort. "Of course, you only care about the technological areas of this showcase. I just want to see how much damage they do to a ghost!"

"Uhm, violent much? Seriously, they probably destroy them completely. It's not like ghosts have feelings, right?" Tucker commented, swinging around to look Sam dead in the eye.

"No, I don't think so. They're just... semi-human consciousness, aren't they? That's what the Fenton family have said," in response, Sam let out a low chuckle, "apparantly they are just emotionless hunks of ectoplasm that cause havoc in and around Amity Park."

"Y'know," Tucker was looking at the glowing screen of his PDA now, "there used to be a ghost named Phantom in... California? According to this website, he was just California's friendly spirit who protected the town and loved to have a good laugh with the 'mortals' that live in the area."

"Hmm... what else is there on him?"

"Well, he was said to not have a home and just chose to go back into the Ghost Zone... whatever that is," Tucker informed her, frowning a little.

"How did he die?" Sam asked curiously, padding towards Tucker to see the screen. The dark-skinned teenager pulled away and let out a low growl, making the gothic adolescent cock a concerned eyebrow.

"Uh... electrocution," Tucker responded, still glaring at her for trying to look at his PDA.

"Yeesh. In what way? Like, lightning, a taser..." Ouch. Electrocution was one painful way to go. What about his death day? Apparantly, ghosts go through a yearly cycle of reliving the pain of their death - if they died peacefully, such as in their sleep, it was a breeze. But electrocution... that must be extremely painful. A gasp enveloped her fragile body, neatly hidden with a small sneeze. _Hayfeever,_ she thought sourly.

"It doesn't say," Tucker's shoulders sagged slightly, "... wait."

"What?"

"Look at this picture. Doesn't it look like the ghost we saw in the park?" Tucker showed her the screen, his expression remaining weary of anyone who tried to take it.

"Ohmygod," she breathed out, then sucked in a sharp puff of air, "that does look like him... We saw _Phantom?"_

"...I think so. L-look! Vlad is on stage!"

The subject was quickly dropped as a tall, slender figure straightened himself up on the stage, sleek fingers adjusting the microphone to the suitable level. Of course, it was Vlad Masters - Amity Park's proud and arrogant mayor. The man's general outside appearance showcased him as a well-to-do guy; rich, debonair, suave, prideful, arrogant, clevern, manipulative, intelligent, mysterious - you name it, he's got it. He had silky white hair tied into a secure ponytail at all times and a matching goatee that bristled his square chin. However, instead of matching eyebrows they were a dark raven, thickened to the point of looking like a bush had grown over his eyes. Midnight blue eyes were bright and mysterious, outlined slightly with black to give him an almost evil appearance. He typically wore a smooth black suit with a cerise red handkerchief in his left breast pocket and a matching small bolo tie. The suit has three rows of white buttons, a total of six. He also wears a silky white undershirt and polished black pointed shoes.

He was okay, in Sam's humble opinion.

"Citizens of Amity Park! I welcome you to what I-" there were teenage grumbles from behind the curtain veil, resembling something like ' _actually I came up with it_ ' "-have named a 'Ghost Weapon Showcase'!" Ripples of applause cascaded over the crowds, though Vlad continued to speak with a dignified tone. "I have known Jack and Maddie Fenton for my entire life. They are an incredible pair, both excellent at ghost hunting and both seriously intelligent. They had managed to create ghost weaponry to battle offending specters - something we very much need assistence in. We have had this ghost problem for a long time, have we not? Now we can obliberate these ghosts properly."

Raising an eyebrow skeptically, Sam watched as the man hesitated in his words. You can't obliberate ghosts, can you? As if reading her mind, Tucker spoke out to her. "You can't destroy ghosts for real. Their consciousness simply transfers itself back into wherever ghosts begin their life on the undead reality plane," he remarked, his voice barely heard through the excited chatter. Rather impatiently, Vlad was attempting to assert silence over the people but his tries were just not being registered fully. Only a tiny proportion of the crowd were actually listening (though most were just shushing their friends all too loudly).

"But they're already dead... they don't have a consciousness, do they?" Sam raised her other eyebrow, confused. A ghost's anatomy seemed extremely tedious to learn.

"Energy never dies, right? So when someone dies, where would their bodily energy go? It only makes sense that they would divert and mingle in a dimension that is the flip-side of our own." Tucker raised both shoulders in an innocent shrug, and as Sam opened her mouth to object.

"But where do-"

"Shh, don't question logic. Now lets listen to what Vlad wants to say before he blows up."

Finally, everyone had shut up and Vlad continued to speak, though it was forced and extremely brief. "Right... without question, I am so _proud_ to announce that coming onto stage now are Jack and Maddie Fenton!" The entire crowd broke into ripples of loud applause, including Tucker, who straightened up in his position leaning against Sam's sleek black BMW. Velvet curtains fluttered open, and two figures stepped onto stage with wide, cocky grins. One was tall and rather square-like, with a sleek mop of raven hair that had silver streaks of old age frayed within a few strands. Midnight blue eyes, similar to Vlad's own mysterious orbs, were in a plump face. Still, his peach skin wasn't blemished with any signs of acne and his smile seemed friendly enough. The orange HAZMAT suit was nearly the same as the boy's one she had seen before, though it didn't have the crossed 'X' straps over his chest.

The woman that stood next to him was considerably smaller, with little to none of her features showing apart from a sharp chin. Eyes protected by orange goggles and hair smothered by the teal blue hood of her own HAZMAT suit, Sam didn't really have much to analyse apart from how she gripped a silver thermos in one hand. _A thermos? What?_

Sam could have sworn that Tucker could read minds at what he said next. "Seriously. A thermos? Pfft. Big deal."

"Just what I was thinking."

"The fishing rod too," Tucker 'yeeshed' under his breath and settled further against the BMW, as if protecting it.

"I know," she sighed, waiting until the boy would come on. All she wanted to do was see what colour his eyes were and- _stop, Manson! You don't fangirl! You're a fucking gothic piece of trash!_

The microphone crackled, this time the squarer of the two supposed ghost hunters stepping out to speak into it. "Hello, Amity Park! My name is Jack Fenton, and this is my gorgeous wife Maddie! We've recently moved to Amity Park in order to help you out with your ghost problems." It had been brief, but what was said next had interested everyone. "Danny, could you bring me out the Fenton Ecto-Gun?"

The velvet red curtain fluttered again, and the _gorgeous teenager_ stepped out with a short, tempered smile. Feeling her breath hitch, Sam calmed her fluttering heart. "Here," he offered them some sort of odd silver and green gun thing, "be careful, I only put three shots of ectoplasmic energy blasts into it so you don't hurt the ghost inside of the thermos too much to be of use." Every single teenage girl was just about gawking over his perfect looks as he offered them an anxious wave. Jack mumbled something to him and the lanky teenager, dubbed as Danny apparantly, awkwardly adjusted the orange HAZMAT suit before promptly disappearing backstage muttering something about 'duplication being a difficult process when the orginial is doing two things at once'. _What the hell does that even mean?_ Frowning, Sam looked over the gun through suspiscious violet orbs. She was concerned at what they were going to do...

"Okay. So, this is what we call our 'Fenton Ecto-Gun'!" Maddie took over, handing Jack the thermos before carefully taking the strange gun herself. "This will weaken a ghost with enough power to keep it in our dimentional reality plain but leave it strained and injured. It's similar to getting stabbed, basically, but there is no knife. It simply blasts a spurt of burning ectoplasmic energy, diluted very slightly but with a mililitre of ectorainum - something that is painful to ghosts. Keeps them down long enough. Look, we'll show you. Jack, would you mind showing everyone what is the thermos?" Guestering to the thermos in his large hands, Maddie smiled urgingly at her large husband, who nodded at her through keen eyes. The man was a little too careful in unscrewing the odd contraption that obviously wasn't holding steaming instant coffee, but something different. Something... living. A blinding blue ray of light beamed towards the ground as Jack pressed a button on the side of the thermos, the strange aqua luminescense surrounded by a dazzling coat of sterile white. As soon as everyone had recovered from the slight shock that had passed over the now silent crowds, a new figure was standing - floating, actually - within a small but thick cloud of sickly green smoke. It dissipated quickly, revealing someone that just about made Sam gasp in silent shock.

It was Phantom.

So it wasn't something living in the thermos. It was something _dead_.

The familiar ghost was floating respectfully beside Jack, his unearthly ectoplasmic green eyes clouded over with a dead dullness that sent shivers up Sam's spine. He still wore the black and white HAZMAT suit, the dark colour only brightening his subdued aura. Stark white hair, almost glowing in the full break of warming afternoon daylight, hung charmingly over his left eye. It almost looked as if he were depressed, maybe even bored. It got Sam wondering whether he had done this procedure before. But ghosts don't feel emotions. That was what worried her about the sentiment she could quite clearly see on the young ghost's face. Sam glanced at Tucker, puzzled and concerned all the same. Judging by his shocked expression, he was most likely thinking the exact same thing.

"This," Jack announced all too happily, "is who we call 'Phantom'. He's a ghost, obviously, because he's floating and he has an aura. But he is an unusual kind of ghost - we cannot say what kind of ghost he is right now, but we know that he _is_ different to the others. Phantom?"

The ghost boy looked up shyly, unconsciously floating off the ground. "Yeah?"

"Put those feet on the ground and stand still, will you?" Jack ordered, his usually gentle voice sharp and demanding. Without hesitation, Phantom obliged and plopped onto the floor without a sound. There was a brief silence as Maddie began fiddling with something on the barrel of the Fenton Ecto-Gun and Sam began to worry for the ghost's well being. Surely he wasn't just here to be looked at. They were doing something with him...

 _Was Phantom being a test subject for this showcase?_

. . .

To say that Danny was terrified was an understatement.

Before the actual showcase had begun, he had been bristled with enough confidence to keep him from worrying. They had been moving from place to place during the summer holidays, performing the exact same routine in the main town of nearly every state in the USA. Sure, Danny was reluctant to duplicate and fix up ghostly weaponry with one copy only meant to harm the other; but if he were to run away or refuse, they'd cut off his important ectoplasm supply. Without constant access to the 'Fenton Ghost Portal' he was a goner - right now, he was only surviving on small plastic bottles full of the stuff backstage. When he got home he was going to take a quick trip to Frostbite and talk too him while replenishing his energy levels, if his parents would allow him. They didn't let him fly freely very often, or go into the Ghost Zone for more then half an hour, but he nearly always went in there at night to say hello to Wulf or Pandora. Sometimes he even visited Clockwork - but that was very, very rare. Father Time was a busy, busy ghost-bee.

"Phantom?"

Danny looked up, pushing back the angry snarl that rubbed against the back of his dry throat. Forcing a small, whispery smile, Danny only left a brief 'yeah?' as his response. The entire crowd errupted into gasps, as if suddenly shocked that Phantom could speak. _Of course I can talk,_ he thought, glaring at them sourly. A few people who had been silently gawking at him squealed and stepped backwards as his fierce ectoplasmic green eyes passed over them, nervous that he may attack at any time. To be honest, Danny didn't blame them. It was probably one of their first ghost encounters... wait, didn't his great uncle Vlad Masters say that they have had a ghost problem for a while? If it were true, they might just be surprised that a ghost like himself was being so obedient to just a 'mortal human being'. Ghosts can be rebels (especially Boxy. Or maybe he's just annoying, it was difficult to tell the difference sometimes).

"Put those feet on the ground and stand still, will you?" Jack demanded roughly, using the sort of angered tone that he used on Danny at home save for the fact that it didn't sound as drunken as it usually did. Obliging, Danny soundlessly landed and shot a sideways glance at his orginal copy, who looked back at him through sympathetical multicoloured eyes. The blast on the Fenton Ecto-Gun could pack quite a heavy punch when he got hit directly. With the addition of ectoranium, it was start burning him. Guaranteed screaming, or at least panting on the ground with dribbles of green ghost blood trickling out of the abused area. Tensing up at the whirring sound that symbolised they were getting ready to shoot, Danny took a glance towards the shocked crowd. Most of them were whispering excitedly, and Danny could hear hisses of 'he deserves it' and 'this is so cool!' passing around.

" _Oh tiel simpatia_ ," **("oh so sympathetic")** he mumbled in fluent ghost speak, the sound of the trigger being pulled alerting him enough for him to gasp hoarsely.

Suddenly white hot agony burst through his chest, the sweltering pain spreading as fast as rapid wildfire through his already groggy nervous system. A scream tugged at his lips but he swallowed it back; he was unable to avoid the agonised whimpers as he collapsed onto his hands and knees. Sickly green ectoplasm dripped from the point of contact, runninh across his arm and dripping off his elbow. The shocked gasps of the crowd was unheard by Danny, who had resorted to scrambling towards his original copy backstage in order to grab the bottle of ectoplasm he was sympathetically offering out to him. It felt like his entire body was on fire - they must have upgraded the gun themselves, because his original would have not set it to actually burn him. The pain lowered slightly, going from agony to a strong, irrating ache, and Danny gripped the plastic bottle as if too weak to open it himself. Suddenly rough hands dug into the crook of his arm and yanked the bottle away from his frail grasp, the movement so sharp that it sent spikes of pain washing over him like a waterfall of lava. Unable to stop the loud yelp that errupted from his mouth, Danny felt the bottle shoved back into his hands - whoever had taken it from him had obviously unscrewed it. The halfa threw his head back and lugged at least three quarters of the bottle back, before getting hauled to his shaky feet. He unconsciously floated, one gloved hand covering the agonising burn and the other fingering the unscrewed cap of the bottle.

"That," Jack announced, not an ounce of sympathy burnt into his words, "that is what the Fenton Ecto-Gun does to a ghost. The ectoranium in the ectoplasmic blast will burn them severely, while the diluted ectoplasm sends them into a state of shock and occasionally unconsciousness. And," he roughly grabbed Danny by the chin, tilting his head up to show his neck, "the burn spreads across nearby areas for a few minutes. It keeps them down long enough to capture or permenantly eradicate." Indeed, the burn had crept up from his chest and was now blossoming across the skin over his windpipe, though it didn't seem to affect his breathing too much. Although his breaths remained short and ragged out of pain, Danny found himself able to breath quite easily - even if the wound was leaking ectoplasmic blood.

This time, Maddie spoke into the microphone. "Ghosts use ectoplasm to heal themselves. While the ghosts you get have cores that pump the stuff around the body, this ghost's core appears to be weaker then expected. Like we said, he is an unusual specimen." With rough hands, Maddie yanked the bottle away from him and showed it to the crowds, who scrambled forwards to get a better look. "He needs a solid supply of ectoplasm to replenish his energy and healing abilites, hence why my son passed him a bottle of it from backstage. Danny, could you give him another bottle, and then give me the Fenton Boooooo-merang? Thanks."

The human duplicate of Danny stood up and tossed a two-litre bottle of ectoplasm at Jack, who caught it in fumbling fingers, before walking out from the veil of red velvet curtains holding a the Fenton Boooooo-merang. "It's already programmed to Phantom's ecto-signature," he mumbled, glancing towards Phantom with concerned multicoloured eyes. The ghost duplicate of himself stared back with a strained expression; a sign that his healing was kicking in.

"Thanks, Danny," Jack 'gently' shoved his lanky son backstage, before passing the bottle to Phantom. The young ghost only placed it down beside the smaller bottle (which still contained one quarter of its original contents) and looked back towards the ghost hunters with a pained smile.

"This is what we called the 'Fenton Boooooo-merang!" Maddie brandished the silver and green boomerang into the air, smiling at the crowd's puzzled expressions. "It is designed to lock onto a ghost's ecto-signature, which is what we track specters with. My son has already programmed it to Phantom's ecto-signature. If I throw it, it will seek out the specified ghost through thick and thin! We use this to track down Phantom-" she glared at Danny, who returned it with an even darker one "-when we need him for times like this. Let me just throw it aaaand-" Suddenly she was cut off by multiple screams from the now panicked crowds, and Danny looked over to see what the ruckus was.

Floating over everyone, a strange bazooka in his mechanical hands, was the one and only Ghost Zone's best hunter.

* * *

 **That marks the end of chapter three!**

 **I have a LOT planned for you guys in the near future. A LOT. I can't wait to write it (this story isn't pre-written :/). Anyway I'd like to thank you all SO MUCH for the amount of follows, favourites and reviews I have! It's amazing!**

 **Reviews keep authors motivated and smiling!**

 **It also blocks away writers block ;]**

 **Maybe 32 reviews? :]**

 **\- Kinetic.**


	4. Chapter 04: A Ghostly Encounter

_#memeteam2016 - I hope you guys noticed I changed my username! -Kinetic_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 04:  
** A Ghostly Encounter

. . .

"Tucker, stop being overprotective over a BMW that doesn't even belong to you and get the heck out of the way!" Sam grabbed the oblivious dark-skinned teenage by the wrist and yanked him roughly into the shocked crowd that had gathered around the sidelines of Amity Park's chief square, frantically searching for a spot they could watch the battle overhead from. This predicament was not anything the citizens of the haunted town had experienced; nearly everyday, the Red Huntress was on her toes to keep up with the constant ghost attacks. But never, ever had they had _another ghost_ square up to who she had known as 'Ghost X' ever since she had first getting used to the strange daily routines. Usually, specters were only post-human consciousness with only immoral intentions; by the looks of Phantom's defensive posture towards Ghost X, he had no preplanning to launch an attack on the spectators clustered around the edges.

Watching the confrontation through curious violet orbs, Sam strained to percieve better sound. Phantom was hanging casually in mid-air, leviated at Ghost X's level of height with a slight dent in his stance; most likely from the torture that stupid Fenton Ecto-Gun had caused him. Ectoranium, whatever that element was, was added to her mental list of 'research until a totally ridiculous time'. It obviously harmed ghosts, judging by Phantom's rather displeased reaction to a single blast, and sent rough burns edging across their skin. No doubt that would ache... if ghosts could feel emotions and pain, that is. Despite his desperate rejoinder Sam still remained skeptical to the fact that a ghost may well have any hints of sentiment other then evil and cold-blooded cruelty. The scorched skin had strong whisps of irritated red burns lining his throat and jawline, the area looking painful even though Phantom was barely even having troube with them. They ran up his rugged jaw and ended just below the jowl joint, ending in light cerise streaks. A strong piece of evidence that ghosts do _not_ feel _any_ pain nor experience any emotional values.

Heartless, souless creatures...

... that _don't_ deserve to be experimented on in front of a far too eager crowd.

"Skulker!" Phantom trilled coolheadedly, "what in the Clockwork are you doing out of California? Still hunting for your favourite prey, eh?" The smaller ghost's gloved fists were glowing with some sort of dangerous energy, crackling emerald and silver streaks that deemed to mesmorise her for a couple of tense moments. It was nearly impossible to look away from the fierce illumination in his unearthly green eyes; the fact that they had morphed from a dead, depressed dullness to a warrior-like status seemed almost impossible. Then her mind flickered to another puzzling thought. Had he just called Ghost X by the name of 'Skulker'? Was that the offender's name before he had died? Did he even _die?!_ Suddenly becoming paranoid, Sam continued to observe the confrontation, all the while shooting lightning glances towards Tucker. The dark-skinned teenager was staring in awe, teal blue eyes sparkling in so much wonder that she was sure his eyes would pop out of their sockets.

"Hello there, _Whelp._ I am Skulker, the Ghost Zone's Greatest Hunter! I heard you have recently moved your attention towards Amity Park, which just so happens to be an area I tend to reside in. A halfa such a-" the mechanical ghost was cut off by a deadpanned Phantom, who was glaring through cutthroat ectoplasmic green eyes. The blast on his silver gloves grew gradually more intense in colour and most likely power levels. This younger, lankier ghost appeared to be more powerful in a range of positions, despite his smaller size. While Ghost X - Skulker, was it? - had always counted on his highly technical exoskeleton to form multiple attacks, Phantom appeared to be more into using his actual ghostly abilities. So far, Sam had only seen two; but Skulker hadn't used _any_ of his yet. He didn't even bother flying properly, preferring to use the odd jetpack thing on his back.

"Ghost Rule 349," Phantom reminded him with a easy scowl and upon recieving a blandly confused face the diminitive ghost let loose a long sigh, "has Walker not lectured you on this about a million times? He sure has done so to me... anyway, Ghost Rule 349 clearly states that no ghost is able to leak another's information and personal matters unless the ghost under question had permitted the action to be performed. Something like that - Walker uses too many words. But you're still not allowed to say anything such as my _species_ to anyone other then to me, myself and I." With a light frown, Sam strained to listen. Personal information? Species? Was Phantom hiding something...? Probably not. Perhaps she was just being paranoid as usual... _hopefully,_ anyway. She glanced towards the now open curtains, where Jack and Maddie were bustling about looking for something and their good-looking son was no where to be seen. Maybe he had gone off to grab more bottles of that ectoplasm stuff. Secretly, Sam was upset that he wasn't leaping into action to help Phantom. While his parents seemed to have no respect towards the dead teenage boy (he certainly looked teenage, at least), their lanky offspring seemed to be almost sympathetic for him.

It was upon thinking about the boy's carefully placed behaviour that it all began to add up. There was a new kid transferring to Amity Park's local high school, ironically named Casper High. Apparantly he had come from the coastal areas of California, just like the ghost hunter family had. When Mr. Lancer had told them about the teenage boy, he had mentioned his name was Daniel 'Danny' Fenton. That was the same last name as the ghost hunters had. That kid, the totally gorgeous one he had seen lugging boxes behind the red velvet curtains and intelligently fixing up weapons designed to harmfully affect ghostly entities... he was the one she and Tucker were meant to be showing around! He was the one who had gone through watching his older sister be murdered in front of him when he was only seven.

Ouch.

"Wow," she whispered lightly, not having the mindset to tell Tucker about her discovery as she continued to watch the battle between two ghosts play out. The conversation had completely slipped her mind, though she absently remembered something about 'pelts' and 'whelps' **(hehe, I'm such an unintentional poet)** being mentioned. Soon enough, all words had dissolved completely and Skulker had resorted to firing several weapons towards Phantom at once, the lanky specter only dodging each long-range attack with a nonchalant air. For a moment she took her violet orbs away from the battle in order to finally say something to a shocked Tucker. "Dude," she mumbled to him, "this is _awesome_."

"I know right?!" Tucker exclaimed excitedly, his teal eyes never leaving the battle. Nothing more was said, though Sam could feel the mutual feeling of complete awe between them. In the center of the amazed crowds, Phantom was levitated about thirty foot into the air, level with the technological ghost apparantly named Skulker. A threatening glare was shared between the two ghosts, both equally menacing and if not the smaller ghost had to be the winner. Their conversation was a mixture between rapid-fire insults and so much sarcasm that Sam was afraid her brain would explode.

"What got your panties in a twist, Skulky Wulky? Is Ember being an asshat?" Phantom teased, not hesitating to fire a harsh ectoplasmic blast at Skulker. The energy slams onto the ghost's armoured chest, the mouth on the muscled spook twisting into a displeasured grin.

"For your information, _Da-"_

"Ghost Rule 349." Phantom dryly cut him off, before allowing Skulker to continue.

"For your information, Phantom, I am not seeing Ember McLain anymore. That means I can have my full attention onto my favourite and most slippery prey," Skulker meekly replied, attacking the smaller specter with a viscious blast of green ecto-energy. It collided hard with Phantom's chest, right where the burns had just began to sliver underneath clean white scars (Sam could see the light blemishes along his jawline, where the scorch marks had once been red and painfully bleeding ectoplasm). The blood-curdling scream that escaped the injured spirit made both Sam and Tucker visibly tense, though most of the younger children cowering behind them had a more severe reaction. Whatever had been in that blast must have been bloody well _agonising_ if it were to cause such a response. From behind Skulker, Sam noticed that the Fenton parents were smiling and chuckling to themselves, obviously taking joy from the ghost's pained howls. _Sick bastards,_ Sam grumbled mentally, her new-found opinion on the two rather negative. It made her happy to know that she was still sour and enjoying it.

"Oh my God," Tucker hissed in shock, leaning over to Sam, "their not helping Phantom. He's basically dying out there... again."

"Where did their son go? He was nice to Phantom," Sam wondered outloud, briefly hearing Tucker 'mmm' in agreement before another yelp broke through the quick silence. Looking up, the gothic teenager noticed that Phantom was firing at Skulker with a brute determination, though the dark stain that pooled the raven HAZMAT suit symbollied that he was weak. Usually Skulker hadn't been a problem, and the Red Huntress had always been able to keep him out of Amity Park (well, most of the time anyway). Perhaps he had an upgrade to his suit. Could he have teamed up with that weird green ghost with the mullet, who always said words such as 'hip' and 'fresh' as if they were still considered cool? It was a possibility. Just as she was about to say something more, she noticed that Phantom had his head cocked their way, though he wasn't looking directly at him. A light, pained smirk crossed his features and for a moment it was replaced by an expression of sheer determination, bigger then what he was using to keep Skulker busy.

It was then that the gorgeous raven-haired (mostly) boy raced onto stage triumphantly brandishing the same thermos from before, his grin charmingly lopsided and breaths ragged. He uncapped the silver and green container and fearlessly leapt onto the cleared space underneath the battle, clearly not phased by the flashes of dangerous green ectoplasmic blasts being tossed back and forth between the weakening ghosts. "Will you ever _fuck off_ , Skulker?" the teenager growled loudly, before pressing a blue button on the side of the thermos. Instantly a long, blinding beam of aqua blue and dazzling white projected out of it, heading towards the larger of the ghosts at almost lightning speed. It hit the ghost, and with a loud yelp of unsuspecting fright he was sucked into what obviously wasn't holding steaming coffee.

" _Dankon horloĝmekanismo mi povas fari duobligitaj_ ," Danny (was that his name?) mumbled in some sort of strange language, smiling up at Phantom with a relieved wave before watching the weakened specter poof in a dark, sickly cloud of green smoke. By the time it had dissipated, he _and_ who she assumed as Danny was gone.

"What just happened?" she asked Tucker, voice dry and cracked from shock.

"I don't know, and quite frankly I don't want to know."

Shaking her head, Sam moved to open up the sleek black BMW.

. . .

Danny Fenton poofed back beside the Fenton Ghost Assult Vehicle within a thick cloud of sickly green smolder. Ectoplasm-infused blood still ran down the crook of his throat even in human form, the severe red burns still in the steady process of scarring over. Rolling his aching shoulders uncomfortably, Danny was rather relived to realise that his parents were still tidying up out front and had yet to notice that he was back at the RV. The wounded areas smattered over his body felt raw and white hot, as if getting prodded with a burning poker, though the teenager was more preoccupied on finding a source of ectoplasmic energy. Multicoloured eyes, while glazed over in silent agony, searched the storange compartment with expert presision from him being in here so often he just knew it like the back of his own shaking hands. With a pained sigh, Danny floated towards a familiar green light that bathed the corner behind a stack of now empty cardboard boxes, the glowing colour illiminating his feet as he hovered closer.

Thank Clockwork - they still had some ectoplasm left. Picking up the bottle, Danny catiously eyed the liquid inside. It glowed a soft green colour, but the hue brightened to a nearly scilliating scale when he put the unscrewed cap up to his lips. Often it would do this when it went near him, since he _was_ a ghost (or half a ghost), which only reminded him of his interesting status. The liquid entering his body was thick, not so thick like chocolate syrup but thick like a homemade fruit smoothie, the kind of comforting lamina. Then there was the dull shock, which he didn't really mind considering he's experienced the same thing times a million when he stepped into the supposedly non-operational portal all of those years ago. With a relieved sigh, Danny screwed the cap back onto the bottle before finally deciding to head out and help his parents in hope of working his way out of a beating tonight.

It was early in the evening by now - the once aqua blue sky had tinged down to a gorgeous silvery cobalt colour, with the blood-red circle of the setting sun just hovering over the ragged horzion. Colour rays arched elegantly across what remained of the lighter skies; some red, some orange, some pink, all vibrant and alive. Stars, ranging in colours from silver to orangey brown thanks to his dramatically enhanced eyesight, dotted across the darker areas and the soft stream of pale moonlight was barely visible across the damp tarmac. Smiling at the stunning views, Danny lifted himself into the air and floated towards the stage in search of his mother (who tended to be kinder then his drunken father sometimes). There seemed to be no one here at the moment except for his parents...

... then the sight of two teenage figures at the back of the main square made his heart skip a beat.

Almost instantly, Danny plopped onto the ground and started into a jog, easily levering himself onto the stage without the use of any stairs. His heart was racing in his cheast, something that was unhealthy for a halfa, and his multicoloured eyes stayed on his black Converse shoes (he changed out of the HAZMAT suit a while back). What if they had just seen him floating? They might think that he's a ghost and report his whereabouts to the Red Huntress! Mentally panicking, Danny glanced over at the two teenagers again. It had only been their siholettes he had seen out of the corner of his eye so he was unable to catch a glimpse at what they looked like, but the taller one seemed to be a female judging by her slender, feminine figure. Maybe they didn't see him; maybe they didn't even know he was there. Hopefully.

If they hadn't known he was there, they must do now considering that he had completely zoned out in his thoughts and ended up _falling off the stage_. His yelp was louder then anyone could have expected for such a small trip, though the feeling of tarmac colliding with his head caused a bigger reaction. Groaning lightly, Danny clambered to his feet and dragged a hand through his messy raven hair, the white streak being tucked underneath his black beanie to keep it away from tauntings. A slight ache remained his bruised ribcage, though he sucked it up and ignored the dulled pain. It didn't hurt as much thanks to the fresh dose of ectoplasm a few minutes ago. Suddenly a rather humane square appeared in front of him, grasping the thermos that currently held Skulker in one gloved hand. Anxiously, Danny kept his multicoloured gaze fixated on the ghostly containment device.

"Are you gonna suck me into that thing?" the teenager questioned wearily, looking at the vexed face of Jack Fenton with a neorotic mindset.

"Depends," he responded with a nonchalant air, "I don't want you to be stiff and electrocuted - again - before you go to your new school." At that smug reference Danny's expression darkened and he felt himself fuming at the memories of that particular experience. It was something he did not enjoy remembering often, since it was a painful incident that had caused all of this trouble in his lifetime. Before the accident, his family had been loving and nearly normal; of course, he had to be oh-so-curious one time when he was six and everything had spiralled into a world of torment and troubles. Then his dad had been drunk a year later and... _it_ had happened. The day he lost his sister to his own father's drunken behaviour had left him scarred; not that he could tell anyone comfortably, though. Ever since Danny had been so close to telling the police about the incident, Jack would hold a knife to his throat and press it harder against his abused skin until he promised not to tell any of the authorities, warning him that he'll never see light again if he dares to. It was sinister, sure, but Danny was used to it.

"Uhm, thank you? Anyway, do you need any help getting any boxes back?" Danny asked, cautiously glancing towards the location that the two teenagers had been just moments before only to find that they were long gone. Breathing a long sigh of secret relief, he unconsciously floated off the floor to get himself a little taller. It was a bit of a habit now; he did it all the time in his ghost form, but it was slowly developing in his human form. Still, it was easy to drop and Danny's heightened senses help him listen out for anyone who didn't know about the existence of his alter-ego (currently only his parents). An uneasy breath shuddered through him, a puff of pale blue clouded up in front of his vision before tormenting pain shot through his stomach and he suddenly found himself on the ground. It spread through him like wildfire and coarsed through the burns, that had been just about done healing to a jagged scarr from his chest to his jaw joint, to start sweltering once more. A groan escaped his cracked, dehyrated lips and he struggled to send proper signals to his groggy nerves. Perception going swimmy from the sudden impact, Danny blearily looked up to see Jack drawing steel-capped boot away from the tender area just below his ribcage.

"Thanks to _your_ lazyness and lack of time keeping, your mother got a strained arm from carrying those boxes!" Jack snarled, drawing his face so close to Danny's that his fists started to glow a vibrant green out of slight terror. "Use that _fucking_ ghostly strength of yours sometimes! It couldn't have take you that long to fucking clean your shit up and come out here to help. Such a faliure, you are, son. Now get up and get your ass the RV, ya sack of shit." His shape stormed away, the clogged smell alcoholic breath disspating from Danny's perception, leaving his lanky figure sprawled out on the floor. Groaning, the battered teenager clambered stiffly to his feet before shaking himself off. His ribcage ached, his burns were throbbing painfully and since when did stomachs have a heartbeat? The sky was darkening into a velvety navy blue, silver stars smattering the gorgeous hue like it was comforting him.

Danny _loved_ astronomy. At his old school back in coastal California, he had flourished in all aspects of science thanks to his heavy knowledge of all things methodical, but astronomy had always been his top subject. If you actually bothered to ask him he could name every constellation known to mankind, tell you pretty much everything there is to know about the moon and probably tell you exactly how to work a NASA spaceship. It was actually impressive to some people, while others thought of him as a nerd or a freak. He didn't care - no one ever did with Danny. There were always A+ grades in the scientific subjects while in gym he had been flagging down an awkward B-, but that was only because he needed a suitable disguise as the lanky, unathletic fourteen-year-old with his academic grades souring a bit higher then average. **(A/N: I wanted Danny to be a tad smarter, mmkay?)**

Danny started towards the RV, where Jack was roughly slamming down on the horn as an attempt to make his son move faster. Unfortunately for him, he had no intentions to hurry his steady pace and the halfa carefully edged his way around a puddle at the speed of a snail just to piss him off, even if it was a horrible idea he would probably regret later on. A long yawn escaped his mouth and Danny eventually reached his dreaded destination, absent-mindedly phasing through the door as if it were nothing more then an open space. The dark glare that his father sent him pointed him to the storage room, where he knew there were guns waiting to be de-activated. At least it was better then sitting on a bench for a solid two hours doing nothing while unable to move his hands properly. With a shaky sigh, Danny took another mouthful of ectoplasm to keep him awake for the journey before getting to work on a set of Fenton Wrist Rays, which hadn't even been used in the showcase. Skulker had stopped it short, thankfully.

School was tomorrow for Danny, and he wasn't exactly excited for it. Being the new kid meant he would be tested for his general popularity levels and if he failed the test it was the start of guaranteed picking-on. To be honest, he didn't want to be popular in school. It meant attention, and attention meant discoveries. Discoveries meant police, and police meant certain _death._ That was something that hopefully wouldn't happen; despite his crappy life, Danny was positive it would look up in the end and he optimistically yearned for that moment to come. It was one of the traits that Joshy apparantly loved about him, and even though Danny had never mentioned his abusive situations at home he trusted Joshua 'Joshy' Jallace with pretty much anything. The blond teenager had even been aware of his ghost powers and he never even faltered; in fact, their close relationship had blossomed upon their discovery.

Then there was the thought of school lunches. Danny had intentions to get the free rations, since he never really ate at home. But the awkward thing about doing that meant that he would have to bring a bottle of ectoplasm into school to discreetly trickle onto the food unless he wanted a serious bout of food poisoning. It would look seriously awkward, wouldn't it; a lanky fourteen-year-old, the quiet new kid, dribbling something green and glowing onto his lunch before eating it very, very slowly. Danny thought about his dose of ectoplasm. Would he be able to last throughout the day without it? Upon thinking about this, Danny took another sip from the bottle by his foot as he slipped the Fenton Wrist Ray he had been working on into 'safety mode'. The dull, almost relaxing shot coarsed through his body and a long sigh escaped him, new energy pumping through his veins with lightning speed.

He then fingered the white scarr that remained on his jawline. The burn had effected him to painful ratios, and the scarrs were quite clearly there. They spread from the bottom of his ribcage in a jagged lightning-bolt like line that stretched up to the joint on his jaw, right below his ear. It reminded him of Harry Potter's scarr on his forehead, only it was a lot bigger and had actually looked something like a lightning bolt (Danny always thought that Harry's scarr was like an 'N' instead). Just below his earlobe the blemish frayed off into serveral whisps that resembled the river Nile, splaying out to the centre of the back of his neck. He already had an excuse for it; "an accident with one of my parent's inventions." In a way, that wasn't a lie. The portal caused him to be a ghost, which caused him to be a test subject on stage, right?

"Danny, get in here and give me a hug!" a rough male voice jarred him out of his thought.

"Uh, why?"

"Because I love your ass too much, Danny Boy."

 _Obviously he's drunk._

"Coming, dad."

Slowly, Danny ambled out to the front of the RV before getting attacked with a ginourmous bear hug. While it was uncomfortable, Danny leant into the brief warmth from such a cold figure.

"I love ya, son."

"I love you too, dad."

* * *

 **That is the end of chapter four!**

 **Meh, I don't really like the length, but I don't care. The ending was a random bit that I thought was cute for an OOC Jack in this fanfic. Shush. I liked that part. I actually laughed while writing 'I love your ass too much' :] also OMG I EXPECTED 32 REVIEWS AND I GOT 44 OH MY GOD I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL.**

 **OMG OKAY I have to tell you something that happened, a legit true story.**

 **So one day my mum found two coupons for home delivery Pizza Hut and Dominos. We decided to call both up and see which is better. So when they eventually came, I opened the door to find both pizza men were out side at the same time.**

 **AND THE DOMINOS GUY WAS LITERALLY SINGING 'Why Can't We Be Friends' TO THE PIZZA HUT GUY**

 **AND THE PIZZA HUT GUY WAS GIVING HIM THE COLDEST DEATH GLARE OMG.**

 **Dominos won, btw.**

 **Review Time!**

 **Danny Phantom Overlord: Thanks! And I believe I answered in PM.**

 **Kimera20: Thanks!**

 **pawfast10: Will do!**

 **The-real-ghost-king: Ahaha, thanks!**

 **xelano123: Gracias!**

 **GuardianWitchDemiGod: Danny makes it so easy to torture him ;3**

 **Pheek: I know, I know. *sigh* it was to throw everyone off guard but obviously it didn't work. Thanks, anyway!**

 **ShinyMudkipGal: Heheh.**

 **GotNoName123: Answered in PM, I belive. And thanks.**

 **Guest: :]**

 **Lexosarus: Hehehehhehehehhehe**

 **Guest: I can't either (this isn't pre-written)!**

 **Guest: Lmao, my favourite review so far. XD**

 **REVIEWS MAKE ME SMILE**

 **PLS?**

 **Maybe 50+ reviews?**

 **ALSO I'D LIKE TO SAY A HUGE THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO HAD FOLLOWED, FAVOURITED AND REVIEWS.  
I WAS EXPECTING 10+ FAVOURITES BY CHAP. 3 AND I GOT OVER 50  
OMG OMG OMG OMG I LOVE YOU ALL SOOOOO MUCH!**

 **-Kinetic, the happiest author in the Ghost Zone.**


	5. Chapter 05: First Meetings

_OK - I have so much planned for you all in the near future! I have the entire plot on my iPhone and it's so angsty and dark and exciting asf! -Kinetic_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 05:  
** First Meetings

. . .

It wasn't often that you found Sam Manson waking up with such an exhilerated smile on her face; after all, she _was_ a goth, and goths weren't always known as the happiest bunch on the planet. Despite sterotypical opinions, not all goths are satanists worshipping the devil are Christian goths satanic ones. The term goth actually refers to architecture and a language-Gothic and the group of people living in Germany (a long time ago, they were crude and barbaric). But of modern times, it is used to describe anybody who has a morbid imagination, wears dark clothing - usually reds and blacks and deep shades of blue and purple, who listens to metal and gothic rock. Sometimes goths also have piercings and tattoos, though not necessarily. That was Sam's view on it anyway - not all goths agreed with her, and most seemed to enjoy just wearing the colour black. To be honest, Sam saw the term 'goth' and 'emo' as the same things.

But the reason for her faliure to often wake up in a blithe mood was because of the way she was woken up. While most teenagers either woke up to the irratating shrill of a simple alarm clock or just opened their eyes themselves, Sam was usually greeted with a high-pitched 'morning, Sammykins!' and some sort of monstorious pink dress shoved into her groggy face. That was the problem with being born into a wealthy family; the parents expected so much of her that it was getting far too tedious. Today was a once in a lifetime experience - she had woken up _without her mum or an alarm_ clock with a huge, excited grin on her face. It could have been the fact that today was Monday (everyone hates Mondays, so the effects were reversed on her) or the fact that she was going to see that new kid in school today. Whatever the reason was, she was far too excited for the coming day.

Without any hesitation, the gothic teenager flung her velvet covers off her legs and sprung out of her bed faster then a gazelle. The movement had been so violently enlivined that she had been close to slipping over on her slippers, which had been discarded at the foot of her king-sized cot for longr then she culd remember, though she had caught herself just before she collided with the mahogany floor. A high-pitched squeal rumbled through her throat as she flung herself at her dresser, eager to get changed before her mother could come in with another horrific dress laden with pink silk and yellow frills. It didn't take long for her to pick the day's outift; a black t-shirt with a silver skull on that showed her slim stomach, a black miniskirt, lilac leggings and of course her lucky old combat boots. Next she glanced at her wall clock and nearly choked on air upon seeing the time.

8:10 AM.

School started in twenty minutes and the bus would be stopping in five.

Sam charged out of her bedroom and down the marble staircase, a hairbrush being snagged through her velvety raven hair and her toothbrush (laden with toothpase by the way) stuck carelessly into her mouth. The panic startled her mother, who had attempted to warmly green her from behind a cup of steaming coffee before her daughter had darted into one of many kitchens to grab her school bag with a half-hearted 'g'morning, mother, g'morning, father!' There were plates of probably diamond eggs or something far too rich like that but they were ignored by Sam - well, most of it was anyway. The only thing she did to acknowledge their presense was slamming her schoolbag onto the table surface beside them and causing them to jump up from the plate into their doom on the tiled floor. Peeves the Butler promptly strode forwards to clean the mess up, only to be nearly taken out by a flying toothbrush as Sam quite literally shot out of the front door and onto the streets, holding a raven coat and her bag in her arms.

It was a gorgeous morning in Amity Park; the sky was still in the gradual process lightening thanks to the wintery weather, leaving it in a vast stretch of stunning velvety blue. It yellowed a little over the ragged horizon, with the blood-red circle of the sun that sent vibrant rays of reds, oranges and purples cracking over the peaceful skyline. They tapered out into adorable clumps of candyfloss-pink cloud before suddenly coming to a stop at the middle of the heavens. The air around her was ice cold and engulfed her quivering body in a layer of uncomfortable arctic shivers, causing her to absently pull her coat over her body. Violet orbs looked ahead of her and she broke out into a rapid jog upon seeing a certain techno-geek boarding _the bus she got on_ daily. Her combat boots thudded against the pavement as she skidded to a stop beside the double-decker to see a smiling, dark-skinned face.

"Morning, Sam," Tucker Foley greeted brightly without expecting a response, leading her to the upper floor of the bus through a cascade of uniformed students from another school called Sutton Valance High. Each were silent and sent them cold glares through the fabric of their maroon blazers. As soon as they reached the top floor, Sam felt more relaxed. Those kids scared her to the bone, and considering she was goth that was something. They probably thought they just goofed around and did no work in their school (but sometimes they weren't wrong), Sam had guessed from their whispers of 'they probably just mess around and do nothing in lessons'. Unsurprisingly, the Casper High students were sat in their usual groups, all talking far too loudly with music booming and students singing rather horrifically yet very amusingly. Towards the back was the A-Listers, the front were the techno-geeks and goths and the middle were the average Joes that just enjoyed a good conversation.

That was where Sam and Tucker usually sat; the middle. They were the most bearable ones and didn't seem to mind them not being with their own sterotypical groups. In other words, they were actually _nice_. Just normal people who treat other people normally and have normal conversations. There was kind of a mutual respect going on between Sam, Tuck and the Average Joes. You know when you get forcefully paired up with someone in a class-wide project with someone that you've never really talked to before but you don't hold anything against them or hate them in a way that you would dread working with them? That was what was going on reciprocally between Sam, Tucker and the Average Joes of the school.

But practically every teacher at Casper High School knew that both Sam and Tucker were the perfect pair when it came to school work. Whenever it came to projects they had always been matched together because of their evergrowing friendship. They worked as a quiet duo with such perfect fluency it was actually unbeliveable. Once, they had been spotted by a sneaky Mr. Lancer in the library while they studied for a project laughing and joking around, which apparantly was something that the overweight English teacher had always wanted the rest of the class to act like during a project. So when it came to class-wide, paired assignments, it was always Sam and Tucker who's names were called out right beside each other. It was kind of expected, actually. They had known each other for God knows how long and they both had reasonable grades, so no teacher seemed to mind putting them together all the time.

"Tucker, is today the day we show around that new kid?" Sam questioned suddenly as the duo settled in their usual seats. They were located in the centre of the bus, with Sam sat on the aisle seat on the right side and Tucker sat on the aisle seat on the left side. It was reasonably quiet there, too, which Sam rather enjoyed. The A-Listers were sat at the back, the geeks were at the front and the goths were scattered about in different places. Chuckling, Tucker shot her a quirky knowing look (by waggling his eyebrows and smirking at her). Of course, Tucker took _everything_ the flirtasious way. Why were they friends again? Oh yeah, because she broke Tucker's left hand by standing on it with combat boots and they kind of sprung from there and on. It had never been romantic between the two, though - that, she was thankful for. Not many people had managed to grab her attention throughout her lifetime, the only two being Gregory and Danny.

"Awwwww. You remembered! That's _adorable_ ," Tucker teased, earning a light-hearted glare from an extremely tetchy Sam. They both shot dangerous daggers at each other though it was obvious to Sam that her dark-skinned best friend had an amused gleam in his friendly teal blue eyes. That wasn't anything new; when she had once been friends with this boy named Stevens **{1}** (he had left a while ago because he kept being nicknamed 'Tomcat' and he hated it), she hadn't heard the end of it from a very patronizingly irratating Tucker. It was so much like him to start deriding any possible couples and he had even started up a betting pool for Dash and Paulina to gain a few sneaky wads of cash from that certain personality trait. Although, it could have been because by the time freshman year came the techno-geek was practically bathing in money from mentioned betting stakes.

"Shut up, dorkwad," Sam threatened jokingly, "or I'll punch your lights out."

"Olay, olay!" Tucker pulled his cerise red beret off his hair to reveal soft black dreadlocks, waving it around teasingly.

Sam shot him a dull glare. The techno-geek faltered and gingerly put the beret back on before sending her a pecular face, earning a squeak of laughter from one of the Average Joe kids seated quietly behind them. With a light chuckle, Sam continued as if nothing happened. "It is, isn't it? What do we have first on the timetable?"

Tucker patiently pulled out his battered timetable and peered at it through square, black glasses. "Hmmm..." he mumbled, then pulled an awkward face, "we have English with Mr. Lancer."

Pulling an equally dread-filled expression, the kid who had laughed at Sam's amusingly aggressive behavior suddenly spoke out to them. Sam took the time to throw a glance towards them and was rather surprised to find it was Holly Marr from most of their classes. "That means reading 'Romeo and Julliet', right? Ugh."

"I feel sorry for that new kid. Wasn't his name Danny or Dan or something? You saw him at the Fenton's showcase," Tucker questioned, though his tone sounded more like he was speaking in mind then asking a question directed at Sam.

"Danny. I heard that Maddie person say his name when she asked for that boomerang thingy," Holly let out a small giggle, "I must say, he had some looks on him."

"The HAZMAT suit was weird." Sam stiffened slightly, her mind aching as she realised that he agreed with Holly entirely.

"It was cool," Tucker reasoned suddenly, "it made him look like a real ghost hunter."

Holly looked up at him, "he is, isn't he? He knew how to use that Ecto-Gun thing."

"Ugh, I don't like that thing," Sam hissed uncomfotably, "Phantom's reaction was..."

"... horrific? I know... I feel sorry for him," Holly visibly shuddered, and Sam suddenly realised just how nice Holly was being. It was kind of sad to admit that they had never really conversed before now; she was actually fairly pretty, compared to herself anyway. Her mouse-brown hair was put up in a tangled bun, her thick blue glasses only showing her friendly hazel eyes even more. She had a refined face shape with a crooked button nose and a small, steady smile. Why no boy had payed no attention to her only God would know. She seemed really nice and was reasonably quiet. By the looks of things, she had a wide sense of humor to boot. **(A/N: Don't worry, she's not a main character. She's a minor OC, barely even used.)**

"Yeah," Tucker said blandly, obviously uncomfortable with the curren conversation, "was that Danny dude even that good-looking? I mean I'm not into that kind of thing and I only saw him after I noticed Sam gawking." Sam shot him a sharp death glare, causing the techno-geek to shrink back a tad.

"Hell yeah," Holly chirped, "did you see his hair? It was incredible. I never liked the 'sexy emo tousled look' but then I saw him and he's so _fucking cute_..."

Sam said nothing at this, instead choosing to change the conversation, "I think we're stopping at school now." Indeed, the bus sharply jolted to a harsh stop, jolting every single Casper High student forwards in their plush purple seats. Laughter floated from the back, and Sam glanced towards the bubbly noise to see Paulina laughing hysterically at Dash, who aided a minor bleeding nose with the sleeve of his prized letterman jacket. There was a light smear of blood on the back window of the bus and it became amusingly aware to Sam that he had collied with the window when the bus had jerked to a sharp halt. Chuckling, Sam playfully barged pasted Tucker and managed to dart down the steep stairs first. The uniformed sutdents from Sutton Valance High were glaring and muttering about 'horrific behaviour' and 'bovine uniforms'.

"Wait for me!" Tucker squealed, practically flinging himself past Dash as the A-Listers tumbled loudly down the steps. The familiar bus driver was mildly horrified as every Casper High student charged through the creaky bus doors at such a fast rate that a few poor Sutton Valance students started to _cower_. It was actually pretty scary - luckily Sam and Tucker had managed to get into their school just as the bell rung.

" _Shit_ ," Sam hissed, "we're late for English! C'mon, dorkwad!"

 **(A/N: That was kind of just a... thing. Anyway I decided to place a reminder here that the bottom AN has a funny story from today in school... (19/1/16))**

. . .

"Samantha _Manson!_ "

Through groggy violet orbs, Sam lifted her aching head up from her amusingly comfortable spot on the cold surface of the table. From beside her there was a small chuckle and Sam briefly shot a glare at Holly, who didn't even flinch at the cold expression. _What a ledgendary girl_ Sam thought, _she wasn't phased by my death glare._ Then a cough rather rudely interrupted her, and Sam then looked ahead only to see Mr. Lancer glaring expectantly at her. "I know the concept of Romeo and Julliet may be far too boring for you, but _please_ listen! Now, what was the general idea for the insperation for this play?" he demanded sharply.

"Uh, a gnome and a gnome trying to find love?" Dash grumbled from a few seats behind her.

"That would be that Gnomeo and Julliet movie, Mr. Baxter. Sam, answer my question or you'll get a detention," Mr. Lancer scolded, though Sam could hear the humor sparkling in his roughened voice.

"The cataclysm of pride, war, love, fate & circumstance," a quiet voice said suddenly from the door. Everyone stifled a startled gasp and all eyes flooded towards the source, including Mr. Lancer, who's gaze seemed to fill with a hint of impressed awe instead of minor fright.

There stood the same gorgeous teenager she had seen only a day before on the stage at the Fenton's ghost weaponry showcase in all of his piles of beautiful glory, his expression tender and slightly weary of the gawking stares that he attracted. Even Paulina was entirely silent, that being a feat in its own pecular way. Rather unsurprisingly, he still looked so stunning in his own charming boyish way that Sam could actually feel the breath hitch in the back of her dry throat. His skin was pale and unblemished, glowing in the pool of soft golden sunlight that streamed though the open windows, bathing everything in its gloriously warm wake. A stark white beanie smothered most of his raven hair, though the strange yet gorgeously unique white streak remained visible in the smooth locks of his sexily tousled bangs. The smile that crossed his perfect features was wide and charmingly lopsided, sided with a hint of anxious weariness.

Fortunately, he wasn't wearing the orange jumpsuit like he had been on the stage. Instead he wore a more normal, boyish outfit that made her eyes just about pop. A pair of black loose-fitting skinny jeans hugged against his lanky legs, the dark colour matching the inky marroon t-shirt he wore. Said shirt harboured his slender build, his chest refined a little and slight muscles rippling briefly underneath the black zip-up hoodie he wore. His black Converse squeaked against the tiles, though obviously not brand new judging by the traces of dirt that lined the white soles. Everything matched up nicely and Sam was happy to find that he seemed to prefer wearing darker clothes just like she did. Was he an emo or a goth? There wasn't a difference in her humble opinion.

"Would you... elaborate on that?" Lancer asked in complete disbelief. The boy bit his lip anxiously, before opening his mouth to respond.

"Shakespeare's meaning behind the play is that love is blind and that although there are many different types of love, they can all lead to disaster. He also deliberately set the play over a short space of time to make it clear that Romeo was an indecisive character who was forever changing his mind and if Romeo and Juliet had been left alive a bit longer, the chances are the same thing would happen to them as to what happened with Romeo and Rosaline. Shakespeare also shows the obstacles that love faces and how Romeo did the wrong things and that is why it ended with his death. He also showed how much some people would do for love, even suicide and how a simple misunderstanding can destroy everything..." He finally looked up and Sam was able to see his eyes. The _mismatched_ colours made her gasp; his right had silvery streaks meddled between slices that ranged from pale blue to an intense cobalt, while the left was such an unearthy ectoplasmic green that made its way into her actual soul. They seemed so bright and full of life, but Sam noticed that there was a gleam in them that was nearly depressing in a way.

"His eyes," Tucker whispered, "they're different colours."

"I know," Sam hissed in response.

Meanwhile, Mr. Lancer's jade eyes were wide in complete awe over his detailed response. "That's... that's exactly right. I take it you're the new student?"

"Yeah."

"Would you mind introducing yourself to the class or should I?"

"Uhm... I'll do it, I guess," he sent them a bashful wave and stretched his soft-looking lips open in a charming lopsided smile, "I'm Daniel Fenton but uh, you can call me Danny, thanks." And with that awkward introduction that sent most of the girls into a flustered mess, he looked towards Mr. Lancer as if wondering what to do next. Honestly, if Dash had done that when he had first come into Casper High he would have just looked like a blabbering mess. The way Danny looked completely disconcerted about this actually looked adorable; his cheeks were tinged a light cerise and he had a hand planted on the back of his neck like some sort of anxious habit.

"Thank you. Could you please sit beside Tucker Foley for me; Tucker, put your hand up so Danny knows where you are," Mr. Lancer instructed formally, offering Danny a small smile. The teenager reluctantly returned it with his own lopsided one before turning away, pulling a quivering hand through his handsome raven-and-white bangs and ruffling it up even more. Multicoloured eyes searched each student, narrowed until they reached Sam and Tucker's location. Briefly they flickered over Sam's shoulder and she followed his calculating gaze to Paulina's gawking expression, the Latina obviously thinking he was a jock because of his ungeeky clothes and _stunning_ looks. Though he didn't seem too bothered by her and simply went for the chair beside Tucker, who was smirking knowingly at Sam.

With a long sigh, Danny flopped into the chair and although he didn't say anything to neither of the duo he was quite obviously thinking about it. There were whispers from Paulina and Star behind him and the new student shot them a sour glare, cleary bothered by their lack of effort to calm down about him. This made Sam smile slightly; at least he wasn't into Paulina like Tucker had been ever since he had first set his eyes on her. At the front of the class, Mr. Lancer had promptly continued in his babbling and Danny didn't seem interested in the slightest, despite his flawless answer to a question that hadn't been directed towards him. Perhaps he was actually very inteligent, but he just _could not be bothered_.

Finally, Sam worked up enough courage to introduce herself. "Hi," she whispered, fighting back the urge to laugh outloud as she violently jumped at the sudden voice, "I'm Samantha Manson, but you can call me Sam." The boy cocked an eyebrow at her questionably, before relaxing his shoulders and offering her a wide, lopsided grin that sent her hormones into complete overload. She stole a glance at Tucker, who was preoccupied with listening to music from his PDA.

"I'm Da- actually, nevermind. You already know that." Sam nearly 'awwed' at the way he stumbled over his words, going red in the face as she chuckled lightly.

"You're the Fenton's son, right? The ghost hunters?" she asked innocently, watching the way he tensed up at the mere mention of his parents.

"Yeah," he sighed regretfully, "they take their job so seriously." Frowning, Sam urged for him to continue, which he did in a quiter voice. "I didn't mind until they started experimenting on live ghosts. That Phantom ghost you might have seen if you went to the showcase? He's one of their favourites."

Sam's frown furrowed even more. "But... but they can't feel emotions."

"T-that's what everyone says. They do... they feel pain, sadness, everything. Trust me, I know." Danny took a careful sip of some sort of metallic bottle that he had pulled out of his purple schoolbag.

"How?"

The boy's multicoloured eyes widenened and he nearly spat out whatever he had been drinking. "Uh," he stuttered a little, the tips of his ears tinging a light red, "I've heard them, I guess. The walls in the lab are meant to be soundproof but I can hear them from the Ops Centre even."

"Lab? Ops Centre?"

"Ghost hunting stuff. The Ops Centre can transform into a blimp," he informed her with a small grin, "and we have a weapons vault in the basement.. the lab, I mean."

"Is that normal?"

"Considering that we also have a microwave that brings food to life? Yep."

 _What in the world?_

. . .

Sam had noticed some strange things throughout the course of the day, all of them to do with Danny.

Firstly, at lunch he had injected his food with some sort of metallic syringe all the while attempting to be discreet about it. When Tucker had questioned it, he had gone adorably red in the face and started to stutter over his words, telling them it was for dieting needs. As far as she was aware, he was a perfect weight and if not a little bit too skinny. Why would he need to diet? Unless he had some sort of vitamin or minerald deficiency, the syringe was uneeded. And he had looked a little giddy handling the needle too; maybe a fear of medical hypodermics? After all, Tucker was terrified out of his wits of hospitals. None of this had been mentioned to him, though it was obvious Tucker had been wondering too judging by the nervous glances he was throwing her way as they ate.

Secondly, she had noticed that whenever someone would put their hand up to answer a question he would shy away at the speed of light. No one would ask anything about it, though Mr. Lancer's concerned frowns were enough to translate his unclear worry for his safety. When he had first done it he had nearly fallen out of a window. The second time he had fallen backwards off his chair (although that could have been that when Tucker tried to wake him up in the middle of a lesson he had jerked his head up far too fast). Also Sam could have sworn she had noticed both of his eyes flash a violent green when Dash had sent him a dirty look. He was hiding something.

And she was going to find out what it is.

* * *

 **That's the end of Chapter 5!**

 **Sorry, it's kind of short. But OH WELL. I had bad writers block but I really tried hard to give ya'll a good chapter, sorry if it isn't up to standards. I have SO MUCH PLANNED and I can't wait for you guys to see it, I can't reveal anything other then *Jazz Will Come Back* but not in the way you may expect...**

 **{1} who can guess what this reference is?  
EDIT (31/1/16): Yeesh, guys, it's another RC9GN reference**

 **ANYWAY here is the funny story of the chappie:  
Someone in my class suddenly asked 'who's Bill Nye?'  
** **Everyone spazzed out and half the class were shouting "HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW WHO THE HELL BILL NYE IS"  
** **The other (including me) were standing on the tables shouting "BILL BILL BILL BILL BILL" over and over again... XD**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **It fends writers block off and keeps me motivated for the next chappie!**

 **Could I have... 68-70 reviews maybe...?**

 **Until next time,**

 **-Kinetic.**

 **PS:** **I'd like to know if you guys wanted another fanfic from me. I had an idea where it was during World War 2; Danny is a British soldier and Sam is a German girl. Tucker would be a soldier with Danny, too. Basically it would be when Sam sees Danny and she falls in love, yada yada yada, then they are determined to see eachother again. I'm not entirely sure how it would work but I really want to do it. Any thoughts on it? Might post a chapter and if I get enough reviews about it I'll continue but if not I'll either delete it or leave it there as an abandoned fic.**

 **EDIT (31/1/16): THE ABOVE PLOT BUNNY IS HAPPENING AFTER I'VE FINISHED THIS FIC! WOOOOOOOOOOO! Signing off from the future, -Kinetic.**


	6. Chapter 06: BEWARE!

_Thanks for reading, guys! -Kinetic_

* * *

 **Traumatized  
** a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 06:**  
BEWARE!

. . .

Danny couldn't say that he enjoyed his first day at his new school. Sure, he had made a good impression on Mr. Lancer when he had first arrived after being held up by one annoying Box Ghost (seriously, the Fenton Ghost Portal isn't even fully installed yet. Maybe it needs _another_ human sacrifice. Where are these ghosts coming from?!), but he had promptly fallen asleep when he reached his desk. The English lesson had been awkward, with that far-too-curious Latina girl spazzing out over every little thing he did from behind him and that blond in a letterman jacket shooting inquisitive glances at him. Though while they were easy to tune out, Danny had much more trouble going to sleep behind his book with that weird, overweight teacher keeping his jade eyes on him basically all the time. Being the new kid was a drag.

Lunch was possibly the worst time of the entire day; Tucker had asked him about the metal syringe full to the brink of fresh ectoplasm when he tried to descreetly inject it into his food, which was supposed to be meatloaf but was literally a lump of ugly grey sludge that made his stomach roll in disgust. In his panic of being discovered, Danny had said it was a dieting thing and just left it there. Of course, Sam was clearly suspiscious of the lightweight steel water bottle he had too - it was also full of ectoplasm from the Ghost Zone, the substance being pure enough to consume but not pure enough to give him 'ectoplasmic food poisoning'. Then there was the fact that the Latina girl, who Danny had now dubbed as 'Crazy Fangirl', had been staring at him as he ate his sludge. Talk about obsessive.

Sam and Tucker were interesting people, to say the least. Firstly, Danny had noticed that all Tucker talked about was meat and technology. Most of the time, no one actually listened to him as he babbled something about a PDA, whatever that was. Was it that strange square thing he had in one of his many pockets? It resembled a terrible Gameboy in Danny's humble opinion, though Tucker seemed to think so much of it that 'she' had a name; many names, actually. Unless he had three copies of the exact same PDA, he had named it Shannon, Susan _and_ Lisa. Then there was the meat obsession he had. Seriously, who actually _enjoyed_ what was supposed to be meatloaf? And who would eat it with their mouth open? Apparantly he hadn't actually eaten any vegetables for his entire life. That was a feat in itself, even if it was slightly disgusting.

Danny thought Sam was... _incredible_. While most students seemed to cast her away from any possible friendship groups because of her unusual clothing, Danny thought that she really suited the 'gothic' look. Personally, he enjoyed the dark look too; but that was mainly because it didn't draw so much attention that could be potentially discovering to him. The discreet but existent makeup made her appear even more beautiful then she already was, and though Danny had always belived that girls don't need piles of makeup to look pretty she pulled it off rather well. Then there was her... interesting diet. Apparantly she was what many people called an 'ultra recyclo vegetraian' or something along the lines of that. It was basically a very intense vegan diet - grass on a bun? Who added that to school lunches?! Danny had eaten grass before (not on purpose; being slammed head first into some fields back in California made it hard to avoid) and it wasn't really appealing. Right about now he was considering just sneaking food from the kitchen in himself.

That was exactly what he was trying to do before Maddie called him down to the lab.

Transforming into his ghostly counterpart, Danny nonchalantly phased through the floor and floated in midair, trying not to cough from the constant smell of ectoplasmic death that made the lab reek. It was strangely quiet despite the fact that his dad was in the room, but he wasn't affected by that. Instead the now anxious halfa stayed planted in his suspended spot, looking around through nervous ectoplasmic green eyes for any other presences. Upon seeing no one, he silently plopped to the ground and glanced towards the thankfully closed Fenton Ghost Portal, which was yet to be switched on by the button that Danny had managed to get on the outside (no more human sacrifices! Yay!). That was when he noticed the weapon's vault was open wide and waiting. His parents were most likely waiting for him in there, counting that they never had it open unless neccessary.

"Danny, hurry up and move-!" a drunken male voice bellowed out, only to be cut off by the sound of a whirring Fenton Ecto-Gun. With a long sigh, the ghostly teenager floated towards the Weapon's Vault only to pause at the door to peer in. Inside, Jack was near the back of the room, his rough hands smothered by thick white latex gloves. There were dribbles of a goopy green substance dribbled messily over the Fenton Ecto-Gun's barrel as well as pretty much everything else that surrounded the large man. It was obvious what he was doing; he was trying very hard to re-fill one of his original inventions with a new dose of pure ectoplasmic energy. Secretly, he was laughing. Danny had always been brilliant at handling their developments without making a big disarray like Jack tended to do and he had never really known why. Perhaps it was because his small hands were so nimble and fast that he could do what Jack aimed for three times faster.

Then his unearthly green eyes fluttered towards the left of the room, just beside where the heavy door swung when opened to its full extent. The desk that Maddie stood at was smothered with numerous ghostproof handcuffs that Danny vaguely remembered as the ones he had accidently-on-purpose broken on the way to the showcase. Smirking at the feat, he continued to study what Maddie was doing to them. Her gloved hands were darting across each pair, dribbling a familiar green and black substance into the cartridge she had forced Danny to add after failing far too many times to get a good enough grip on the blowtorch (to open up a hole in the cuffs). Ectoranium, one of the only real world materials that can do extremely lasting damage on a ghost. Most likely to burn his wrists when he struggled too much or something unhumane like that. Shuddering slightly in dreading anticipation of the next car - RV - journey, Danny plopped to the ground and called out to gain their attention.

"I'm here."

Sharp violet orbs snaked around to face the teenager and he promply tensed up, his diluted white aura flickering in his ominous terror of the woman's deadly glare. They found his dulled ectoplasmic green orbs and without a single positive emotion plastered onto her face she straightened up and away from the table. "Danny," she greeted, though it came out as a disappointed hiss, "we need your small hands for these handcuffs." The teen's narrow shoulders, clad in the familiar black and white jumpsuit, slumped. Maddie was asking a _ghost_ to handle purified ectoranium - which is a substance that can fatally burn spectral entities when in direct contact. Gingerly, he fingered the scars jaggered his jawline and neck, recieved from a Fenton Ecto-Gun at the showcase a day or so ago. That blast had had ectoranium in, which was why he had been in so much pain.

"But mum," he objected, wincing mentally as he called Maddie by her unearned parental label, "I'm a ghost. That would hurt me if I handled it." Of course, Danny suddenly remembered one thing about his parents. They didn't give a flying fuck about whether he gets harmed or not. As long as he was discomforted and nervous, they didn't care. That didn't stop them from child abuse, though. Apparantly they got great pleasure from seeing their own son curled up on the ground, spluttering mouthfuls of ectoplasm-infused blood onto their kitchen tiles. The slender woman rolled her eyes and grabbed something from a rack on the wall, fiddling with a switch on the side of it before flicking it into life. Danny froze as soon as he realised what it was.

"If you don't, you'll get _this_ , ghost scum," she threatened in a deadly voice, her unblemished face glowing from the dazzling purple electricity that arched between the two metallic prongs on the taser.

"Bu-"

"Just turn to your human form. Should be less painful."

"But then the burns wouldn't heal as quickly. I have school tomorrow," Danny protested in a whiny voice, only to suddenly duck away from Maddie's armed and outstretched hand. He hadn't been fast enough to phase away, though. The taser bit into his side and Maddie only chuckled in glee as Danny screamed in reaction to the pulses of electrical pain that wracked his small frame. It coarsed through his nerves, frying all positive feelings he had held before into mere whisps of metiphorical smoke. He could vaugely feel the taser pull away from his body though the pain remained, only spiking when he dropped to his knees as an attemp to dilute the agony. He coughed violently, catching himself with lightning reflexes as his knees nearly gave way to his light bodyweight.

"Get on with it, boy!" he heard Maddie shriek violently, though her voice sounded so distant it could have quite possibly been plunged underwater. Peering up through tousled white bangs, Danny shakily sucked in a sharp breath. The rush of sweet, sweet oxygen dulled the pain in his burning lungs and gave him relief, though his ears and ribcage ached painfully. Was your head supposed to have a pulse even when your chest doesn't? With careful presision, Danny levered himself onto his feet and glanced over at the discarded handcuffs. He self-consciously floated into the air, a habit he had learnt along with the mastery of his ghostly abilities. With a heavily morbid expression, Danny phased through Maddie and got to work on the handcuffs.

There was a scratchy cough from behind him and Danny's gloved hand briefly faultered in its mission towards the blowtorch, the ghostly teenager glancing over his shoulder to the splutter's klutzy source. White locks of hair fell over ectoplasmic green orbs though he didn't bother pulling them away, masking his eyes from vision as they locked with Jack Fenton's own midnight blue ones. The overweight man had his brow furrowed, his eyes flared in disappointed anger and ragged black hair falling out of its gelled-in position. There was a leaking Fenton Ecto-Gun grasped in his rough hands, the ectoplasm dribbling out of the now cracked barrel like a tap. Stifling a frustrated sigh, Danny dreaded having to fix that later on in the day. "Dad," he rasped, unable to keep the weariness out of his voice, "do you want me to fix that for you when I'm done with these?" The man stiffened, cobalt eyes faltering away from the soft look in Danny's dulled green ones.

"Yes," he responded shortly, "we're going out tonight. I expect everything to be clean by the time I get back. If not, you know what will happen. No using your... ghost powers, got it?" His tone was sharp and unforgiving, causing Danny to tense up in his father's unnecessary anger. A shaky sigh shuddered the boy's fragile form and he absent-mindedly nodded, distracted by his thoughts. Of _course_ he knew what he would recieve if he didn't tidy the entire house (including both the Ops Centre and the lab); most of the time, it included the Fenton Anti-Creep stick and/or some sort of broken beer bottle. Even if Jack had told him not to use his ghost powers, what the hell was stopping him? It wasn't like Jack would ever find out, counting that he had powered the security cameras down a while ago.

After finally realising that he was in fact being expected to finish the ghost-proof handcuffs, Danny floated up from his position and turned back to the cluttered table. The blowtorch lay unattended beside numerous samples of purified ectoranium, which he glared at with anger flaring in his ectoplasmic green eyes. He could hear Jack returning to his business though it was cut off by the fizz of an activated blowtorch, namely the one that he grasped in his Latex-smothered hands. There was a dull pain still remaining in his bruised ribcage, spurts of electrical energy blossoming through his groggy nerves. As far as he knew, that taser hadn't actually been weaponized for ghostly entites and had just hurt more then usual. Luckily she hadn't kept it in his side for long, therefore the actual agonising pain didn't last as long as it would have.

The blowtorch's blueish light lit up the darkened corner, the heat wrapping uncomfortably around his ice core. Ghosts with colder cores such as him had always been bad with extreme thermal energy; once, on the hottest day of the year (which was basically scorching back in California), Danny had woken up unable to get out of ghost form because his body was so worked up with trying to keep him cool. Fortunately it had been Saturday, so he just stayed in front of the AC all day with ice packs and drinks of lemonade while catching up with homework. His parents had been at a showcase in New York at that time and he had managed to get two duplicates out there to do his job, even if it wore him down and he could still feel the weapon's effects. At least his old teacher hadn't given him a detention for throwing up in the middle of class, though Mr. Lancer seemed like the guy that would do the opposite.

... he had been thinking about this very man before the all-to-familiar cloud of pale blue smoke whisped out of the gap between his lips.

. . .

"I have come to a conclusion; Danny Fenton is a very strange person!" Tucker declared loudly, his pointing finger raised in front of his teal blue eyes and expression obessively triumphant. From beside him, Sam furrowed her brow and stared at him in confusion at his announcement. Dapples of cold rain trickled the ground, though both teenagers didn't flinch to the icy droplets of water; it was late in the evening, usually meaning heavy rain in Amity Park. The weather around here could get kind of hectic, to say the least. Firstly, the mornings were nearly always fresh and clear, which often refreshed Sam as she walked to the bus and/or to meet up with Tucker. There would always be a stunning sunrise and there were students holding up their iPhone to take a picture of it nearly all the time. Secondly, the nights often consisted of rain, rain and more rain.

"No shit Sherlock," Sam grumbled, pulling her royal purple coat over her shivering shoulders and hood over her smooth raven locks, "but why do you think he's strange?"

This made Tucker cock an eyebrow at her, as if it were obvious. "I don't trust that the syringe is a dieting need. He's not interested in _any_ girls who come scrambling up to him. When Dash approached him, his _glare_ scared him off. Isn't that a bit unusual?" To be honest, Sam couldn't really have disagreed with her dark-skinned best friend. The syringe had puzzled her for a while, especially the way he had tried to be discreet about it. Perhaps he was just self-conscious about having to use a needle? While it was a possibility, Sam wasn't so sure. Why did he even need to diet? He was skinny in all the right ways and he actually looked proportional, unlike Dash, who really needed a good leg workout to make his body actually look correct. She wasn't really surprised about the fact that Danny pushed most girls away - he didn't really seem like the kind of guy who would be interested in looks, even if he certainly had some good ones. And Sam had seen the glare that Danny had sent Dash; his multicoloured eyes had quite literally flared when Dash tried to insult him for hanging out with the 'loosers' of the school.

"I guess... did you see the way he flinched whenever someone near him would raise his hand?" Sam questioned curiously, violet orbs casting Tucker a concerned expression. There was a brief pause in the conversation, as if her best friend was thinking. Though she hadn't expected him to actually burst out laughing.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" he spluttered, leaning against the wall of a nearby house on the street they were walking up to Sam's house (*cough* mansion, rather). Upon seeing the puzzled look Sam was casting him, he continued between fits of hysterical giggles. "If you're saying that you think that Danny is being abused, I'm going to _die_."

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Tucker. Think about it; he flinched away from anyone who raised a hand near him, he looked terrified of the needle when he used it, and did you see the way he tensed up when he saw his family's car thingy?!-"

"-Tank, actually," Tucker cut in rather rudely, earning a cold glare from Sam.

"-Seriously, I'm suspiscious."

"How will you prove that?" Tucker pointed out, causing the teenager to halt in her mission to get home before the ghost attacks roll in.

"We have gym tomorrow, right?" Sam kept her intense gaze on Tucker, who nodded and furrowed his brow. "Since I can't exactly see, while we're getting changed try and see if he has any bruises or anything like that. There isn't anywhere in the locker rooms where he could try and hide himself as far as I know, so it'll be fairly easy to see. It won't hurt to try and see, ri-" Suddenly, the gothic teenager was cut off...

... by a very large man in overalls _floating_.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!" the rather familiar ghost roared, voice cracking into cringeworthy levels at his pathetic shout. There was a snort of amusement from Tucker and Sam looked over at him too see the techno-geek laughing behind his hand, tears of amusement threatening to fall out of his teal blue eyes. To be honest, Sam didn't exactly see what was funny about their current predicament. While the Box Ghost wasn't exactly a dangerous foe, he was still painfully annoying and the Red Huntress had been seen shouting over how 'fucking frustrating that dumb fat ghost is' while she wasn't battling it out. For some reason Amity's part-time hero hadn't shown up yet, which was puzzling since she nearly always came to get rid of him when he first showed up. Furrowing her brow, Sam continued to listen to the Box Ghost ramble on. "-AND YOU SHALL COWER BEFORE MY AWESOME POWER OF ANY SQUARE CONTAINER-"

Just then, an uncommon but still strangely familiar voice cut into the ghost's pointless blabber. "Boxy, how in the Clockwork did you manage to get here? Our portal isn't even up yet!" it shouted, a dazzling flash of emerald and silver streaking in front of the two teenager's vision. It collided with the Box Ghost's proudly puffed chest and sent the ghost of boxes flying backwards, the area petruding a light green cloud of smoke upon impact with the dangerous blast of ectoplasmic energy (well, at least it certainly looked like it). With a shocked gasp, Sam's violet eyes looked at the source of the attack to see a now familiar figure, much to her surprise? Wasn't he meant to be a test subject for the Fentons in their lab that Danny had mentioned?

Phantom was floating over the middle of the street's road, his lanky legs bent at a slight angle and gloved fists clenched at his sides. There was a fierce fire in his dangerously dull ectoplasmic green eyes, lightning them up with enough spirit and emotion to be nearly real... but ghosts are not sentient beings, if they could be considered beings at all, that is. Tousled white bangs hung over his eye and his kind-of-familiar black HAZMAT suit had splatters of a green and black substance staining his silvery gloves. The goopy liquid seemed to be irrating him, though he didn't react darastically to it and continued to fiddle with something attached to his waist.

"Ah! It is the halfa! You will not capture me with your cylindracal container!" the Box Ghost, dubbed as 'Boxy' by Phantom for some odd reason, raised his arms in a not-so-menacing manner. Obviously, Phantom wasn't amused by the offending ghost and he cast Boxy a sarcastically terrified expression before replacing it with a charming grin.

"Jesus, Boxy," he chuckled, "your threats are on _fleek_ tonight." And with that, Phantom uncapped the Fenton Thermos (seriously, did he steal that from the Fentons?) and sucked the Box Ghost into its tight containment, the overweight ghost leaving with a scream of 'bewaaaaare!' before he completely disappeared.

There were many things that ran in Sam's aching mind by the time Phantom teleported away in a poof of sickly green smoke. Firstly, she was rather confused at how Phantom had managed to obtain a Fenton Thermos. At the showcase they hadn't been given the chance to actually get a lecture about the thermos, but she knew what it was and had reasonable knowledge at what it does. Supposedly there were two buttons on the side of it; one was obviously capture and she wasn't sure what the other was. Perhaps it was 'obliviate' or maybe just a simple 'release'? Had he stolen it on the day of the showcase? She had seen Danny use it to defeat Ghost X, or Skulker as Phantom had called him, with brilliant expercity, something that Phantom had done too.

Now that she thought about it, there were a lot of things similar between both Danny and Phantom. Firstly, they had the exact same smiles; lopsided and charming, with a dull sense embedded into it (though Sam hadn't really thought of it when she had first seen a ghost of a smile on his flawless face, excuse the pun). Then there was the hair, and although they were the exact colours that contrasted against each other they were bith sexily tousled in the exact same way. The only difference with style was that Danny's bedraggled raven locks were often hidden under a beanie, with his bangs hanging slightly over one eye and the white streak tucked behind his ear. Also she had noticed that their voices were near to exact against each other, with Phantom's more echoey but still strangely similar.

It left her wondering about who Danny really was, and what was really going on at his home.

. . .

There was a certain thermos laying in Clockwork's lair, one with an extremely iconic face pressed into its walls...

... and it was empty.

* * *

 **That concludes chapter six!**

 **I'm sorry it's super duper short but I really wanted to get it uploaded before I went to sleep. At least you got yourself an update, eyy?  
GET READY FOR STATS: Right now I have *84 reviews, 72 follows and 44 favourites*. Seriously, that is incredible guys! Thanks so much for all of your support - it has really motivated me to keep my inspiration for this story! I love you all so much and I am so thankful that you've all enjoyed it. I've never been happier! THANK YOU!**

 **Enjoy something that happened yesterday while at my friend's house (it might not be funny to a lot of people but it was hysterical at the time):  
So I was riding my friend's horse, Bonny, in the arena. I was trotting up to a jump to warm Bonny up but then Bonny was like "um, no" and went into a canter instead. Of course I was so busy trying to get her back into a trot I forgot to register the fact that Bonny had overjumped the tiny jump by like, two meters. I wasn't ready for such a huge leap and I fell OVER THE FRONT OF THE SADDLE and was sat on THE HORSE'S NECK as she cantered away from the jump.**

 **MY FRIEND WHO OWNS THE HORSE WAS SCREAMING AT ME LIKE "YOU CANT RIDE OMG"  
AND MY OTHER FRIEND WAS LAUGHING AT ME BECAUSE I WAS SCREAMING AT THE HORSE LIKE "DONT PUT YOUR HEAD DOWN DONT YOU DARE" XDD  
**

 **... anyway...**

 **REVIEWS KEEP MY WRITING SENSES MOTIVATED FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER!**

 **please take the time to review?**

 **I'd really love 100 reviews but I'd be happy with 90...**

 **... but for an extra long chappie I'd like 95 XDD**

 **LOVE YOU ALL!**

 **-Kinetic**


	7. Chapter 07: Mission 'Prank The Teacher'

_I hit **100** reviews! Thank you all so much for your support! XD -Kinetic._

* * *

 **Traumatized  
** a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 07:**  
Mission 'Prank The Teacher'

. . .

Something was pulling at Danny Fenton's aching mind, for some unknown reason. It felt as if his ghost sense, which usually didn't hesitate to escape his airways whether it was through his mouth or through his nostrils, was tickling the back of his dry throat like it wanted to come out and warn him of any spectral presences though was thinking twice about it. The familiar icy feeling was teasing him and it was rather irritating, but it seemed to be refusing to actually come out. The thought had been deriding him non-stop while he made his way to school, having decided to take the areal route instead of the boring human passage his parents would have preferred him to take. Flying often made him think, and all Danny could think about was why in the Clockwork did he feel like he was dreading something unusually big. As far as he was aware, there was nothing but his parents and homework to fear. That wouldn't explain why his stomach was knotting up in terror and why he was kept up with worry last night. He had even gone for a quick patrol to see if Skulker or Plasimus was scouting around and found not even the Box Ghost. The only thing he could think of that would cause this much extreme alarm in his mind was...

 _Dan_.

Mismatched eyes widened in shock and Danny's lightning speed in the air faltered as the thought crossed over his mind. That name struck pure fear in his very ghost core, even if it was merely mentioned in his earshot. It couldn't possibly be him... could it? The last time he had seen _him_ was when he had cheated on the CAT tests and Clockwork had kept the offender's thermos, topped with a few unbreakable time charms casted on it as a source of ultimate protection, in a dungeon located somewhere locked up beneath his lair. It was blandly impossible to twist open the thermos's steel silver cap, let alone break out of it's hold - that was why Danny was partly skeptical that it was Dan Phantom himself who was upsetting his ghost sense. Perhaps (hopefully, that is) it was Pandora; she was a powerful ghost. When she had first attacked California she had set off his sense like this, though it hadn't been to scales this dreadfully immense.

He could only hope that Clockwork was going to assist him with this one.

... it wasn't Dan, right?

Laughter-ridden voices and rumbling engines of buses jolted the ghostly teenager out of his deepened thoughts sharply, causing him to drop his invisibility in the air. For a moment his mind went blank and Danny completely forgot to go invisible again to keep his presence a secret. Thankfully most of the students that could possibly catch a glimpse of the ghost buy in the air were far too engrossed in chatting about makeup or messily copying down the math homework they had forgotten to do, leaving the halfa time to slip into an alleyway and transform back into his human form without detection. The glowing blue halos bathed the ground in a scintillating light, white hair morphing into black and ectoplasmic green eyes turning into mismatched blue and emerald. Looking down at himself, Danny smiled through the dim lighting. Today he had chosen a nice outfit; another pair of loose-fitting black skinny jeans, the same inky maroon shirt as yesterday, a black hoodie with white strings and a pair of worn-down black Converse shoes. Before the accident Danny used to wear brighter clothes, but he had promptly gone a 'mild emo' (no makeup but dark clothing) after the incident to avoid being noticed. The shadows welcomed him coldly and that's the way he liked it.

 _Where are Sam and Tucker?_ the teenager thought, furrowing his brow as he pulled his skateboard out of his backpack. The sound of the plastic wheels clattering against the tarmac pierced his heightened senses though he tried hard to make no reaction, gracefully hopping onto the worn skateboard and pushing himself down the pavement towards where he could see his school. There was a double-decker bus pulled up, though it seemed to be leaving in a few seconds as the driver began fiddling with whatever you needed to drive a bus (he was only fourteen; how would he know?). Just then, two familiar figures flashed in his line of vision and Danny grew esthetic, pushing himself harder and weaving expertly through the bustling crowd of students with little effort. From many years of getting around on this thing he had developed a clear talent for skateboarding, and with his increased reflexes he was perfect at catching himself on the rare times he lost his balance. Sometimes, when his mum or dad refuse to drive him somewhere and he is unable to use his ghost powers for whatever reason, he would just take himself out on his skateboard. The only place he couldn't go back in California was the beach, but he would just walk there since he basically used to live on the coast.

"TUCKER, MOVE!" Sam's violet orbs suddenly flickered towards Danny, widening as they watched him fly down the pavement at breakneck speed towards Tucker. Smirking, Danny crouched down a little lower and made a perfect streamline, cruising through a crowd of older students faster and faster until he was a few meters from where Tucker was obliviously standing. It was obvious that Tucker wasn't going to move judging by the way he was just staring at Sam as if she were insane, so Danny decided to take a last minute desision and put his foot down on the tarmac. He jammed his shoe hard against the ground and the force pulled him into a sharp curving manuvoer, the plastic wheels skidding with a satisfying amount of yellow dust clouding up. Looking up through brazen multicolored eyes, Danny offered the two flabbergasted teenagers a small smile before hopping of his skateboard. The students behind him were chattering about 'stupid babies on skateboards', loudly declaring their annoyance for Danny's cruise until Sam shot them a final death glare.

"Hi," he commented, looking towards Tucker with a docile expression. The dark-skinned teenager's teal blue eyes flickered towards Danny's feet, running along the skateboard's worn surface until he was sure that it wasn't broken or something like that (he wasn't really good at reading expressions). There was a brief pause, before Danny furrowed his brow at the awkward silence. "... hellooo?" A hand raised in front of Sam's face, the raven-haired teenager attempted to gain her attention though came to no avail.

"I never knew you could skateboard," she breathed, her cheeks tinging a light cerise as Danny shot her a lopsided smile, "I thought you were going to kill Tucker or something." Danny ran a hand through his white-streaked raven hair and let out a long, exhausted sigh. In the golden morning sunlight, Sam looked stunning. Her skin was pale and soft, violet eyes shimmering as they looked him over. She was wearing a rather fetching outfit too; a black shirt that showed her slender midriff, a black skirt, dark purple leggings and of course the thick combat boots.

"Thanks for nearly killing me!" Tucker grumbled sarcastically, watching in curious resentment as Danny slipped the skateboard back into his school bag. Unsurprisingly his tone was dark and reminded Danny far too much of his father, who would be either setting up the Fenton Ghost Portal while drunk or getting drunk in order to start on the portal (Danny would check their work when they leave for the pub tonight). The board's tip made contact with the metal bottle in his bag and the clink noise painfully pierced his sensitive heightened senses, causing him to visibly wince. It was obvious Sam saw it too, though she only threw him a concerned expression.

"S-sorry," he stuttered, absently taking a step backwards. The movement made Tucker frown and Sam shot him the kind of look that said _'see what I mean?'._ Suspiscious, Danny ducked shyly beneath his white-streaked raven bangs and waited through the awkward silence that his obvious flinch had caused. The other two teenagers seemed pretty aprehensive too and Tucker even started whistling.

"What do we have first?" Sam questioned suddenly, the trio turning to make their way into the school's main building. There were serveral minutes until class would actually start and Danny was rather thankful for the fact that no ghosts had come out of the Zone for a few hours - Danny still had no idea where they were coming from. As far as he knew, there wasn't enough ghostly energy in Amity Park that he could sense (ghosts can sense ectoplasm levels sometimes; it's a new power he developed recently, and apparently it's a rather exotic one at that) to open a natural portal from the Ghost Zone.

Pulling out his timetable, Tucker scanned the words through thick glasses. "Uh... geography with Mr. Metcalf," he informed them with a short, dreading sigh, "he's so boring... our old geography teacher, Mr. Taylor, made our lessons so much fun when we had him; he used to let us just listen to music and sleep until another teacher walks in."

"Yea! And when a teacher _did_ come in to check on our class he would suddenly get up shouting 'OKAY! LET ME TEACH YOU ABOUT GEOGRAPHY!'" Sam chirpped in brightly

This interested Danny, making the teenager shift towards Tucker to peer at the sheet of battered paper. "Oooh. In my old school we had a teacher like that; he was my math teacher, Mr. Kent. He was really bored teaching us about direct proportion so he set up a court in our math room and we somehow got an old man wig from our drama room. Mr. Kent put it on and he sat on a throne, which was actually made of stacked tables, with a ruler as his hammer thingy. We spent the entire lesson loudly debating about homework and when the headmaster walked in to check on us Mr. Kent was like, 'I am teaching the students about... percentages'. It was one of the funniest things I'll ever see…" By the end of his story he had Sam and Tucker in piles of giggles, earning curious glances from a passing teacher as they pushed the doors to the school open wide.

"Man, your old school sounds like fun. What else happened?" Tucker urged, still recovering from the story.

"Hmm… oh yeah! One time, my friend Josh kicked his shoe at the ceiling in drama. The shoe hit a tile so hard that half the ceiling collapsed; everyone was like 'SHIT' and they started to hide behind the drama equipment or roll away on office chairs. The teacher turned around screaming 'WHO DID THAT?!' and she locked eyes with Josh, who was like 'that is not my shoe' while he stood there with one shoe on. It was great.  
Another time, we were in English actually working which is rare for my old class, and this boy named Herbie ran into the room with Cameron on his shoulders. They were screaming that someone was chasing them and everyone was like 'what the fuck?!' while sitting innocently in their chairs, meanwhile our teacher was just yelling 'GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM!'. Taylor ran into the room with Nathan on his shoulders and they were laughing so hard that Nathan pissed himself. Herbie tripped on my bag and he literally fell _through_ the window. Everyone was crying with laughter and the teacher was like 'I'M GETTING MRS. DAW' to which everyone started screaming to because Mrs. Daw is terrifying." Danny was nearly crying with laughter himself when he finished and the other two weren't much better; they were leaning on each other for support as they shrieked in peels of laughter.

"I want to go to your old school," Sam whispered hoarsely, looking at Danny with sparkling violet orbs, "did you ever do anything like that? Tell us!"

"Yeah dude, tell!" Tucker urged

At this, Danny blushed bright red. "More then once…" he informed them, furrowing his brow.

"What did you do?"

Glaring at Sam light-heartedly, the raven-haired teenager began to chuckle. "I did a lot of things. The funniest thing I've ever done is helping the seniors on their yearly April Fools pranks. They used my small size and natural ability to climb into tiny places to fill the vents with chicken nuggets... the entire school stunk like KFC for a month. They didn't know what to do except spray Febreez in every room every hour when we got vistors, otherwise we'd have to put up with the scent of chicken."

"How did you get that much chicken?" Tucker snorted, suddenly appearing interested at the mention of meat.

"My friend Oscar used to work at Burger King; when he left he stole all of their chicken nuggets," Danny responded nonchalantly; he arched his back and trotted up the many stairs that would lead to the door in a spurt of bosterious energy.

"Noice," Sam commented with a light-hearted laugh.

"Tell us stuff you used to do and we can try them in class today," Tucker suggested, gaze flickering between both Sam and Danny with a small smile on his lips.

"Oooh, that sounds like a good idea!" Sam agreed with a chuckle, "what did you used to do, Danny?"

He thought for a moment before smirking. "I used to put my hand up and when they picked me for an answer I would be silent then go 'WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME?!'. Or… I used to fall off my chair and go 'it's okay, the floor needed a hug' and people would look at me like I was crazy or laugh." He thought some more. "I would change seats every time the teacher turned away when I got bored, or I used to get everyone in class to hum really quietly and gradually get louder."

"I bet they got mad-" Sam was cut off by the school bell, but that didn't stop Danny as he thought of some other stuff. The trio walked as slowly as they could along towards the geography lesson, listening intently to Danny as he spun another story into the comical conversation.

"We used to get a lot of substitutes and we were really bored with this nineteen-year-old named Mr. Henson when he was doing roll call. Every time he said someone's name they would shout 'chop!' instead of 'here sir' or something like that. Then the person at the end of the register yelled 'TIMBERRRR!' and everyone fell out of their chairs at the same time. The teacher was just sat there like 'uhm'."

Holding her stomach, Sam wheezed out another breathless laugh. "That's beautiful," she choked out through her peels of giggles, "we need to do that in geography. Mr. Metcalf would flip." Danny spied the geography room they were in and broke out in a jog, desperate to get there before the teacher did so they could convince the students to play along. It would be great fun if they could do some of these things in geography…

… and that was exactly what they were going to do.

. . .

"Alice?"

"Chop!"

"Danny?"

"Chop!"

"Dash?"

"Chop!"

Mr. Metcalf was visibly confused, though he continued despite the strange circumstances. Each and every student of his geography class was shaking with laughter as Sam, Tucker, Kwan and the rest of the teenagers responded to their name with a short, sharp 'chop!'. From the back of the room, Zahn was smirking at Danny, who was mumbling something inaudible to him.

"Yasmin?"

"Chop!"

"Zahn?"

"TIMBERRRR!"

Suddenly the sound of scraping chairs resounded in the classroom and Mr. Metcalf could only raise an eyebrow as he watched every single one of his students collapse out of their seats, grunts of effort as they collided with the floor echoing throughout the room.

. . .

"What should we do next?" Sam hissed to Danny, clambering clumsily back into her seat. She was still laughing from the prank they had performed a few minutes before and half the class were still laughing about Mr. Metcalf's queer reaction to the small prank. Raising a thoughtful eyebrow, Danny's multicolored gaze flickered towards his school bag that was tucked beneath his desk. Inside was something he had forgotten he kept in there; two walkie talkies with full batteries and perfect working orders. They had been used back in California for ghost fights with Joshy, since the Fenton Phones had been crammed into the weapon's vault. Back then he hadn't known the passcode to access it, but now he had peered in on Maddie typing it in when it had been first installed he could get into it without much trouble. Though he could just phase through the doors anyway… he'd get punished for that, and punishment meant unconsciousness for at least an hour instead of being grounded or banned from any technology for a week in his house.

"I have an idea," Danny whispered with a wide smirk, watching Sam with a steady gaze as she deeply blushed, "just wait and see. Tell Tucker that I'll be back." He briefly looked up at the ceiling, which was thankfully a dropped one (look it up on Google), before stooping to pick up his school bag. Putting up his hand, Danny successfully gained the attention of their confused geography teacher and asked to go to the bathroom in a polite tone. As he allowed him to go, Sam sent him a calculating expression, to which he blandly ignored and instead focused on maneuvering around Dash's desk without being tripped over. The door clicked shut and Danny looked up at the ceiling with a smirk, disappearing towards the bathrooms to make it believable enough. Of course he wasn't actually going to do as he said he was; this was prank number two for the day. Confident that no one was around because he could sense no presences beside himself, the teenager floated a foot into the floor when-

"Crud, they have ghost alarms!" he hissed to himself, dropping to the floor as soon as he noticed the familiar green alarm they had installed into their kitchen a few days before. It looked a lot like your average fire alarm though was coloured a pasty green colour and was simply a small lever instead of a button or sheet of glass you have to smash with a hammer. The use of any of his ghost powers would set them off even in his human form, though his father had kindly decided to disable that feature for his specific ecto-signiture so he could use them freely in his own house. Sighing, Danny pulled one walkie talkie out of his school bag before scanning the corridor with calculating eyes. They focused in on a small air vent just above a locker and his grin grew widely esthetic with excitement. The teenager, abandoning his school bag against Locker 724 and twisting the walkie talkie around in his small hands, bounced towards the vent and placed a hand on the top of the lockers. He could only just reach the edge of it but he was athletic enough, smirking as he pulled himself on top of the set of lockers.

His light weight barely even shifted the lockers and he was able to crouch between them and the dropped ceiling with enough room to fiddle with the vent's screws – Danny had always been lanky enough to fit basically everywhere. Back in California, Danny had sat in a cramped cupboard for an entire period in order to avoid Spanish class (he already knew Spanish pretty fluently, so why should he go and learn what he already has done). He had even managed to stay undetected when someone opened the cupboard to get some exercise books out. Hands moving quickly, Danny unscrewed the air vent's grate with reasonable ease and carefully placed it on top of the lockers, careful not to make a noise just in case anyone came through the corridor.

The air was thick in the ventilation system but Danny blandly breathed through it as he nosedived into the small space. His body could fit smoothly into the shafts and he was able to shimmy through with silent ease, quietly congratulating himself for his victory. Now he had to find his way around in the system – luckily, there was a lot he could remember. He knew that ventilation was often used to control indoor air quality, therefore had strong metals walls that wouldn't break with a tad bit of unusual pressure on them. There was no way that they would give way to such a small weight so he was confident that he could get through without much trouble. The smaller, narrower vents lead to places such as broom closets and food storage rooms while the wider ones lead to classrooms, offices and the canteen. From this he knew that he would need to access one of the wider vents and find a grate that showed his geography classroom. For a while he crawled around, unable to locate which grate he would need and trying hard to avoid dropping his trustworthy walkie talkie. He was esthetic when he finally found the right one; carefully, he switched the walkie talkie into life and placed it down just out of sight behind the grate.

Now everything was in place, he would begin phase two of 'Mission Prank The Teacher'.

. . .

Back in the classroom, Sam was blandly confused. She shot a thoughtful glance towards Tucker, who was staring into the grate above the wall clock with a hand over his mouth. Carefully she followed his teal blue gaze to see… Danny Fenton himself lying flat on his stomach in the ventilation systems, placing a walkie talkie just out of Mr. Metcalf's sight. For a moment he faltered, before looking up and meeting her puzzled gaze.

"What is he doing?" Tucker hissed, voice ridden with laughter as the teenager in the vents shimmed away silently.

"Just wait and see, Tucker."

"Noooo! Don't do that! I know you know what he's doing. Tell me!"

"I don't know, Tuck! That was what he told me when he went off to supposedly go to the bathroom. I have my suspicions, though."

Suddenly the door flung open and in came Danny, smile charmingly lopsided and white-streaked raven hair tousled in a way that made Sam's heart flutter. In the golden lightning of late morning, Sam noticed that he looked stunningly handsome; his skin was pale and perfectly unblemished, with his multicolored eyes sparkling in amusement. There was something about his eyes that pulled her into them. They were stunningly coloured and they were swirling with some sort warrior fierceness but there was something so dull and scarred about them that it made her nervous about what he had been through in his lifetime. Yeah, he'd seen his older sister murdered in front of him and that would explain it if he didn't flinch every time someone went to touch him. It all made her a bit suspicious about what was going on in his house though she was careful not to bring it up.

"Ahh, Mr. Fenton…" Mr. Metcalf drawled, pausing to look at his sheepish student, "… did you have a good time in the bathroom?"

"Yes sir," Danny mock saluted, trying awkwardly to shuffle around the teacher to get into his seat.

"Why did you take so long?" Mr. Metcalf requested curiously, one thick eyebrow raising above his hairline as he watched Danny's arm stumble against the desk he was leaning on. The teenager in question had his multicolored eyes wide in dismay as if struggling to come up with a reasonable excuse, before his lips split into an incredibly sheepish grin.

"Uh… the t-toilet fell off the wall… so I fixed it…?" he stuttered anxiously, one hand rubbing the back of his neck like it was a nervous gesture. Sam had noticed that he did that a lot; when she had seen his dad taking him home the day before he had done it at least five times. It made him look pretty adorable if she were to be honest, though you wouldn't catch her saying that out loud to anybody.

"You know how to fix a toilet." Mr. Metcalf deadpanned

"Sir, my house has an Ops Centre which can transform into a giant blimp on the roof. I can fix a portal to another dimension; 'course I can do a toilet!" Danny barked out as if talking to an army officer, making Dash snigger and Holly choke out a cough that sounded suspisciously like a giggle. The raven-haired teenager continued to stare directly into Mr. Metcalf's eye until the young geography teacher tore his hazel eyes away, guestering to the empty seat where he had been sitting before. There was an awkward silence before the teacher muttered something inaudible to Danny, who opened his mouth in a small 'o' shape before trotting towards his chair. As he flopped down, a goofy grin was on his face and Sam could only smile at how mischevious he looked.

"Wha-" she began in a low whisper, only to be cut off by a stern glare from Mr. Metcalf. For a moment Danny stared levelly at her, then stooping to pull a notepad and pen out of his bag. He carefully gave her a few sheets and when he began writing on one she suddenly got the jist - note-passing. **(A/N:** _Sam's notes_ **,** _Danny's notes_ **.** **)**

 _What are you planning?!_

 _You'll see... cover me while I get something out of my bag._ Sam studied the note's careful handwriting, boyish and neat yet messy in its own way. Looking up, she watched curiously as Danny pulled another walkie talkie out from his bag. Then it all came to her - his plan, that was - in a rush.

"Rivers can generally be classified as either alluvial, bedrock, or some mix of the two. Alluvial rivers have channels and floodplains that are self-formed in unconsolidated or weakly consolidated sediments. They erodetheir banks and deposit material on bars and their floodplains. Bedrock rivers form when the river downcuts through the modern sediments and into the underlying bedrock. This occurs in regions that have experienced some kind of uplift (thereby steepening river gradients) or in which a particular hard lithology causes a river to have a steepened reach that has not been covered in modern-" the teacher babbled, pointing to a diagram on the board, only to be cut off by an a voice, whispery and haunting, echoing within the ventiliation systems; with a small smirk she glanced back at Danny, who was quietly muttering into the activated walkie talkie.

"Mr. Metcalf..."

The teacher whirled around, hazel eyes wide in dismay at the sudden voice. "Who was that?" he demanded in a sharp tone, thick eyebrows creasing in his anger at being interupted. A cascade of knowing sniggers passed through the class and Sam glanced around; apparantly other people had seen Danny in the vents through the grate and obviously knew just what he had been planning. Holding back her hysterical laughter, she watched Danny recollected himself from his own fit of breathless giggles and stooped down to speak again. She was still confused as to how Danny had managed to fit into such a cramped place - but then again, he was one of the shortest (and cutest) boys in the class and was incredibly lanky. It wasn't that he was scrawny; he was _lean_. Scrawny is a way that means an ugly type of skinny, but Danny pulls it off with unmistakeable ease. If he were to be beefier like Dash, he wouldn't look right. He looks physically correct the way he was now, if that makes any sense.

The walkie talkie in the vents crackled and Sam could see Danny struggling to get a grip on himself while mumbling into it. "Y'know what the Computing teacher is...?" the voice whispered darkly.

Fearfully, Mr. Metcalf replied. "What...?" he drawled in a hoarse tone.

"A PDFile..."

Danny lost it; that was the only way Sam could describe it when she looked over at Danny. The teenager was shaking with silent laugher, the walkie talkie grasped in his hands ans his forehead resting on the cool surface of his desk. First Tucker started laughing (because he was one of those people who actually understood why the pun was hysterically terrible), then the rest of the class. Even Mr. Metcalf started chuckling and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I have to tell her about that..." he started, sucking in a breath before continuing, "okay, who is doing that?" All eyes flooded over to Danny, who hadn't recovered fully, though the geography teacher didn't seem to notice and instead passed over the class with a puzzled roll of his hazel eyes.

"What did one hairdryer say to the other...?"

Now exhausted, Mr. Metcalf responded with a sharp "what?"

"... why don't we blow each other..."

The entire class errupted into laughter, with only a few frazzled faces cascading through the nerds of the group. Mr. Metcalf, shaking with laughter, was unable to speak - Sam looked at Danny only to see him still in the same position he was in before, red in the face and laughing openly. "That's... unappropriate..." the teacher snorted, "but.. still hys- EVERYONE STOP LAUGHING AND LISTEN!" Looking at the door, Sam noticed that Mr. Lancer was standing there.

"Nice control over this class, Neal-" _Neal?_ -". I've never been able to shout like that," the English teacher commented with a smug smirk, making Dash double over in laughter.

"T-thanks Edward," Mr. Metcalf sighed dismissively, only to be cut off by-

"Did you know that hippo piss is pink?" the voice said again. Mr. Lancer looked around violently, then stared Dash right in the eye.

"Actually," Mr. Metcalf began to inform the ceiling, "that's the milk."

From beside her, Danny was looking morbid. "... what colour is their piss then?" the voice said, suddenly in a normal yet quiet voice.

"It's yellow, Voice In The Ceiling," Kwan commented, before the entire class errupted into giggles.

"Why is there a stu- Daniel, why are you looking so smug?" Mr. Lancer said suddenly, making the white-streaked raven haired teenager freeze.

"Uh...

... no reason..."

Sam could only faceplant in her head.

* * *

 **That's the end of chapter six!**

 **Yes, I know, THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE ACTUAL PLOT LINE. I just want all of the action to start later (in chapter ten maybe) so I don't rush. There will be a lot happening by then - just for now, I needed to stretch it out a bit. In the next chapter there is a bit of action and deffo some abuse scenes (that's what everyone likes apparantly?). Butttt I hoped you enjoy.**

 **BTW, Mr. Metcalf is my math teacher in real life, Mr. Kent used to me my math teacher in real life, Mr. Taylor used to be my geography teacher before he broke his elbow.**

 **The funny story of the chapter... hmmmmm...  
Well a lot of you have already seen this (if you've read my story called '69 ways to know if you're obssessed with Danny Phantom') but I'll re-tell it anyway...  
** **Basically I was waiting for my mum to pick me up in my school's carpark with my old math teacher Mr. Kent, who was on bus duty, when my French teacher Mr. Villeleger walked up to us. He points to me, wiggles his hips and sings "IS IT TOO LATE TO SAY SORRY~?!"**

 **I go, "sir that's a Justin Bieber song..."  
** **"I know. It was on the radio and now... now I'm _HOOKED." ..._ only my teachers, tbh... XDD**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **It motivates a reader to deliver a good chapter to you all and it only  
takes a few seconds... I love reading them and it makes my heart  
FLUTTER with happiness everytime I read them...**

 **I have an aim for 120 reviews; virtural cookies for anyone  
who helps with that! (::) (::) (::) But 112 is fine, y'know XD**

 **The happiest author ever signing off,  
-Kinetic**

 **EDIT (31/1/16, 6:35pm): I was reading some Harry Potter/Danny Phantom fanfictions and I noticed they're all the exact same thing - Danny goes to Hogwarts, he defeats Voldemort, blah blah. Since that's getting a bit boring, I was thinking about writing a HP/DP crossover when Harry is still searching for a horcrux (I think that's how you spell it?) and after a while he realises that one horcrux is in Amity Park and is in fact a person... Danny, actually... so then they have to hunt Danny down but of course he won't be killed because DANNY IS A GAWD. ;D So they figure out how to get it out and all that, the end.**

 **Of course that will come after the Danny Phantom WWII AU that is planned after this is finished...**

 **-Kinetic**


	8. Chapter 08: Of Gym Class and Conclusions

_harhar, you guys loved the last chapter so much someone wanted a oneshot series of Danny doing pranks... I might consider it actually... XD -Kinetic_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 08:**  
Of Gym Class and Conclusions

. . .

It wasn't long before the end of geography flew by and already Danny was packing his books away, careful to keep the walkie talkie out of sight when he tucked it behind his worn pencil case. After school he would have to disable the ghost-detecting alarms wired within the building and phase into the ventiliation systems to take the other one back into his possession, but that wasn't a problem to him. From years of living with obsessed ghost hunters and learning how to use every piece of equipment they invented he was fast with spectre-related technology, able to put together an ectoplasmic bazooka with insane speed let alone disarm an alarm structure without causing any damage. It often shocked both Maddie and Jack Fenton when he blandly noticed the faults in their ghost weapons and offered to fix it for them, which they would often take in exchange for a beating-free evening. That was something he relished in, therefore he was quick to study and repair the mechanics they invented. Despite what most people say, Danny was actually a very smart teenager with a lot of potential to achieve perfect grades; thanks to his ghost half he had developed a case of ADHD and found it very hard to focus. The only thing good about having ADHD was that he was able to move around a lot more, a good thing when it came to any ghosts he encounters with evil intentions.

Running a hand through his tousled white-streaked raven hair, Danny tucked his planner into his school bag and took a glance around the room. It was basically empty since the bell had rung for end of class a few minutes ago, but a few students remained chatting against the wall; Tucker was waiting for him next to the door with a bored expression, Kwan was digging around in the cupboard for his confiscated football and Sam was speaking with Mr. Metcalf at the back of the classroom in a hushed tone. There was an impatient Dash standing beside Kwan, constantly complaining about how they were going to be late for gym class in such a squeaky voice that Danny was sure it went beyond the 'far-into-puberty' level. Swinging his bag onto his back, Danny went for the door when suddenly a smirking Dash stepped beside him, his blonde hair looking as if it had at least seven bottles of gel in it. _Eugh_ , Danny cringed mentally, hating the idea of hair gel. He prefered to allow his hair to sort itself out and it didn't turn out too bad, right?

"Ladies first," Dash opened the door to the classroom, smiling as if what he had said was the best thing in the world. It took Danny a few minutes to realise that Dash was trying to call him a girl, which to be honest he didn't find offensive or insulting in the slightest. After all, one of his friends was a girl, so why was it supposed to be a jibing comment?What is it with Dash and him?

Sighing exhaustedly, Danny stepped aside and guestered out of the door, stealing a glance at a puzzled Tucker. "Go on then," the raven-haired teenager motioned in a bored tone. For a moment Dash was just staring at him dumbly, when suddenly Danny's intentions rushed at him all at once.

"Wha- I'm not a gi-"

"Dash, do you _want_ to be late for gym?" Danny cut the jock off, yanking the arm of his red and white letterman jacket out of the door while actually using his ghostly strength to actually move the heavy teenager. When Dash spun to confront him, all Danny did was let a trickle of ectoplasm run into his sockets and both irisies flashed a dangerous green, only visible for less then a second. The jock seemed to have seen it and he visibly tensed, purple-blue eyes narrowing in fear and suspiscion before he guestered for Kwan to walk to gym class with him. There was a long, ugly snort from behind him and Danny whirled around to see Tucker doubled over, teal eyes brimming with wetness. For a moment the teenager was concerned for his friend's well-being when suddenly the techno-geek straightened up and wiped a tear away, chortling as if he had just seen the funniest thing in the world. To be honest, everything was funny to Tucker; he had started laughing when Danny had stubbed his toe against the desk, which hadn't been as funny for the victim. The most annoying that about that day was that it was only yesterday, which was his first day at his new school. Talk about first impressions.

"Dude, your c-comebacks are so smo-smooth; you didn't even fl-flinch when h-he said that. You just p-popped back a c-c-comment and sent him off with a glare! That's f-fantastic..." Tucker chirped excitedly, his cracked voice stuttering with his laughter, "y-you're unbeatable sometimes, Danny..." With a self-congratulatory smirk, Danny moved for the door and led Tucker out with him, only looking back to see where Sam was. She was still talking to Mr. Metcalf, her lilac lips in a small smile and her violet eyes sparkling in gleefullness. Due to his ghostly enhanced hearing, he could hear their young geography teacher laughing about the cleverness of some of his students when it came to pranks and him wondering who the hell managed to get into the ventelation systems so quickly, while Sam only nodded and smiled in silent agreement. It was a few minutes before Danny finally stopped listening in and instead began conversing with Tucker while they waited for their friend to finish so they could walk to gym.

"Your first gym lesson, eh?" Tucker smiled playfully, giving his friend a sharp elbow in the hip, to which he sharply flinched at the stabbing pain that errupted through his torso. Trying not to visibly react, Danny tenderly rubbed the area; that had been the exact place where his father had kicked him only a few days before, which had left a lovely purple bruise smattering his lower ribcage. It hurt to move and breath but Danny ignored the pain as smoothly as he could, though he could see that Tucker was looking at him worredly.

"Y-yeah..." he stuttered, feeling the stabbing pain die down in small ratios and sucking in a sharp, shaky breath.

Tucker stared at him some more, before glancing back at the door to see where Mr. Metcalf and Sam were. Luckily their gothic friend had just finished up and was on her way towards them now. Upon seeing this, Tucker turned back to Danny. "I wouldn't worry, dude. You look athletic enough... though Mrs. Tetslaff is a bit of an asshole sometimes..." There was a grumble from inside the geography room, which sounded strangely like Mr. Metcalf mumbling 'you got that right'.

It wasn't the physical lesson that Danny was worried about - it was the getting changed part. Personally he had never actually been a very self-conscious about his actual body while he got dressed into his gym kit since he wasn't fat; if anything, he looked nearly aneroxic. It was just the fact that the bruises and scars that littered his skin were painfully obvious and he didn't want anybody to see them. If someone were to find out about his abusive situation at home, everything in his life would skyrocket. He'd get relocated into an orphanage which would cause him to loose his scarce amount of friends through lack of free contact, and no one wants to adopt a fourteen-year-old boy who was littered with scars from his past, do they? There would be social workers, therapists and worst of all the police; he hated them almost as much as he hated his own parents. They had never served him anything good throughout his life and quite frankly he was done with them pretending they were trying to do so.

Snorting, Danny shot a peek at Sam, who was mouthing something to Tucker suspisciously. He didn't say anything about it, only a response to Tucker's claim. "M-me? Athletic? Ahahahahaha, you're funny," he laughed dismissevly, feeling his ribcage bruise ache with the effort but making no move to comfort the abused area, "I'm quite possibly the _least_ athletic person I know." Rolling her eyes, Sam padded up beside them, brushing her silky raven hair over her shoulders with a small smile. As Danny looked at her he was sure that he could see a light blush singing her pale cheeks, something that Danny would usually catch Sam doing when he looked over at her. Did she like him? Like, as in like-like him? If Danny were to be honest, he wasn't so sure that he liked Sam like that. After all, they had only known each other for a day and a bit...

He didn't _like_ her, did he?

. . .

"Tucker, remember what I told you yesterday?" Sam hissed to her dark-skinned friend, catiously watching Danny as he walked with his head down in front of the duo. The inky maroon shirt he wore hugged against his lanky build and Sam could see light back muscles rippling slightly, making her blush return; she couldn't help it, usually... Everytime he looked over at her, she would feel her cheeks heat up and her violet eyes would roam over him again. Everything about his was painfully wonderful, from his stunning mismatched eyes that looked like they had seen everything from to his angelic laugh that would send everyone else around him into hysterics too. Even his hair was gorgeous! How could someone so perfect exist? He seemed smart, he was amazingly good-looking and he was certainly a good guy, but there was something in his eyes that Sam didn't like. Almost like a false happiness, like he was hiding the pain... Sam was positive that things weren't right at home for him, and she was determined to find out.

Pulling herself out of her thoughts, Sam looked over at Tucker, who was staring confusedly at her. "What did you tell me yesterday," he deadpanned, teal blue eyes serious as they bore into her own violet ones.

"Can't you remember?" she responded bitterly, raising her hands in annoyance and watching out of the corner of her eyes as Danny nearly smacked head-first into a locker. It took all of her willpower _not_ to laugh and instead snorted, which made him send them a concerned glare. Though he didn't make any move to move back into stride with them and instead bustled further through a chattering crowd of seniors.

Tucker was staring at her with a blank expression. "No, I got blinded by shower gel yesterday and it kind of made me forget basically everything about yesterday."

"You got blinded by shower gel? Don't you have that no more tears stuff from Johnstones?"

"The bottle lied, Sam. LIED! It was like a crying machine when it got into my eyes. My life flashed before my eyes! I wasn't even using-"

"You didn't use shower gel _again_? How did it ge-"

"... I had shampoo?" Tucker responded, only saying it as if it were a question, "hey, we're awfully off track. What were you going to tell me again?" The techno-geek chuckled nervously, teal blue eyes studying the gym room doors with fearful anxiousnessness.

"Oh, yea... you have to see whether Danny has bruises or anything, Tuck. I'm certain that he's afraid of getting hit or something..." she trailed off, watching Danny stop at his locker for a few moments to grab his gym kit, "and don't you dare say I'm being silly. Watch when someone puts their hands up near him, Tuck. I promise you." As if on cue, a random jock dived into the air to catch a trash bin - _seriously, who throws a trash bin in the middle of a corridor?!_ \- that was flying over the tops of everyone's heads. The only person who visibly flinched was Danny, who made a bit of an 'ack' noise and sharply shied back to get away from the jock who had gone to catch the bin. No one seemed to notice apart from said jock, the taller boy throwing Danny a worried glance before moving to put the trash bin back into place. Evidently he was one of Dash's friends, Sam was sure he was called Jake or something like that, and was one of the nicer A-Listers in the group.

Not all of the A-Listers were that bad people, to be honest. The three nicer Listers had to be Jake, Kwan and Star; Kwan was usually reluctant to follow Dash when he went to beat up a nerd and often tried to get Dash to stop it. Jake was just a generally nice guy and though he didn't exactly have the looks he certainly had the personality and heart of absolute gold. Though she was often seen as a prissy bitch like Paulina was, Star was actually a really nice girl; she sometimes talked to Sam when Paulina wasn't around and even offered for Tucker to sit with her at lunch one time. Then there were the others, such as Dash. They were the people who everyone hated and thought of as absolute pricks. Even if Dash had the gym grade, he certainly didn't have any academic ones; the average A-Lister for you.

"Oooh, I see what you mean!" Tucker chirped happily in realisation, "I'll get right on that. Cya, Sam!" Sam could only watch as Tucker pranced towards Danny excitedly, his gym kit swinging over his back and red beret shaking with his movement.

 **(A/N: I'm just going to throw in a reminder that these parts were meant to be shorter simply because a) I needed to change P.O.V's and b) nothing really exciting happens in them. The next section is where some stuff happens in _Tucker's_ P.O.V! Yay! -Kinetic.)**

. . .

"Check to see if Danny has bruises... that sounds easy enough," Tucker muttered to himself, leading a frowning Danny towards the boy's locker rooms just behind the male part of the A-Lister group. To be honest, Tucker didn't see what Sam was so worried about; sure, it was blandly obvious that she like-liked Danny, but was it any reason to get so worked up over nothing? There were going to be no bruises on him, right? He wasn't being abused at home... that was an absurd thought. Firstly, the Fenton duo seemed like really nice people on the stage, even if they did use a living (dead?) test subject in front of everyone. That was they day that Tucker had first seem Danny, lugging heavy boxes of strange ghost weapons while clad in an orange and black HAZMAT jumpsuit. It had looked like Danny was good at using the weapons, maybe even better then his parents were even if they had invented them. Why would such cool parents abuse their kid?

Secondly, Danny didn't seem like he was getting hurt at home. Yeah, okay, Sam had pointed out that he basically screamed whenever someone raised their hands near him and whenever anyone touched him he would tense up and send them an anxious glare. That wasn't any reason to conclude that he was abused, was it? He didn't get all testy when Mr. Lancer had mentioned to tell him of any problems at home in one of their classes yesterday, nor did he get nervous when Dash had said he was a 'scrawny kid who had troubles with his mummy and daddy'. In fact, Danny's anger had only flared when Dash had said that. To be honest, Danny was a pretty scary guy when you really pissed him off; he looked like he could certainly pack a hefty punch if anyone were to put him over the edge. It didn't seem like long before Dash would get a badly broken nose if he were to ever put Danny of to the brink of his patience, then again it could be the same the opposite way.

"Come _on_ , you little sacks of wet flour!" Coach Tetslaff screamed outragedly, stroking her ginger-blonde mullet while glaring daggers at Nathan and Wesley. The two nerds under her stare whimpered and broke into pathetic jogs, quick to get into the boy's locker rooms before the A-Listers got there. At the shout, Danny visibly flinched and ducked away a little, only to straighten himself and cough into the crook of his elbow awkwardly at Tucker's concerned expression. Maybe he _did_ react to anger like that; though it didn't change anything in the techno-geeks mindset. Tucker was as stubborn as a mule and as skeptical as... well, whatever is really skeptical (Sam when it came to the words 'meat is good for you'?). "MOVE IT, FOLEY!" Coach Tetslaff yelled again, then quieting down once she set her midnight blue eyes upon Danny, who was just about to get away with getting into the boy's locker room unnoticed. "Who's that, Foley?" she asked in a nearly normal volume of speech, clearly puzzled.

Guestering to Danny, Tucker smiled sheepishly. "Who, him? Why this is our good friend Danny Fenton of course, Coach Tetslaff," he introduced in a cheesy advert voice, raising an eyebrow to the glaring raven-haired teenager who's arms fell limpy beside him.

"You make me sound like a hoover on Teleshopping," he commented dryly, making Tucker laugh outloud. Even a passing A-Lister - was that Jake? - chuckled at the remark.

"You'd make a good hoover," Sam chirped suddenly, about to step into the girl's locker rooms. Danny dipped his head, allowing his raven bangs to fall over his face (Tucker could see Sam blushing at this), before laughing as well. Meanwhile, the coach didn't seem to impressed and began to bite her lip as if preparing her scream.

"Danny Fentoover," Danny said comically, earning another laugh from Sam, who then disappeared into the locker room with a smile on her face and a blush on her cheeks.

To say the least, Tetslaff was beginning to go red in the face.

"Well then, Fentoover, let's get changed before Tetslaff has a fit," Tucker laughed nervously, hooking his arm around Danny's shoulders and ignoring his flinch as he yanked him through the doors into the boy's locker room. The raven-haired teenager pulled away and rubbed the spot tenderly, as if cringing from- no! Tucker is not going to lean into Sam's conclusion this easily! With a small smile Danny headed after Tucker, who had decided to power on towards the back of the locker room. It stunk of stale sweat and gross leather polish (why would you have polish in a boy's locker room anyway?), a scent that Tucker had grown used to over the years of attending Casper High and had simply begun to bypass as the normal boyish smell of their school. Meanwhile Danny had his nose crinkled up, one hand clamped over his face as an attempt to probably block out the disgusting smell. When Tucker had first come in he had actually gagged, so his reaction was somewhat expected and not even the A-Listers made a comment about it.

"It actually stinks in here," Danny remarked dryly, "how do you stand changing in here...?"

Shrugging, Tucker offered him a small laugh as he dropped his gym kit onto the seating bench beside him, "I'm used to it, to be honest..."

"Why the shoe polish?" Danny questioned stubbornly, following Tucker's actions and hesitantly taking the white gym shirt out of his gym kit bag. Seeing his falter, Tucker raised an eyebrow only to suddenly guess that he was feeling a bit awkward about the bright colours of the gym kit. While they didn't require a school uniform, gym kits were certainly needed and the school seemed it fit to have identical gym outfits for each student. They happened to not be dark colours, save for the black football shorts, and while that had pissed Sam off to the point of spraypainting half of the sports hall black (it took ages to come off), though Tucker didn't expect Danny to react so drastically. If you were to look at him briefly he would seem like a very passive kind of guy with a very laid-back temper but Tucker knew that he didn't mess around; if you looked harder into his multicoloured eyes you could see a nearly terrifying fierceness. When Sam had mentioned it over the phone, that was the first time he had actually taken notice of the dangerous glint in the striking blue and green colours.

Tucker shurgged nonchalantly, pulling off his shirt and quickly shoving his gym shirt on, "I guess some guys like to polish their tennis shoes." The shorter teenager laughed as he pulled off his own inky maroon shirt; Tucker, finally remembering the missiom Sam had assigned him, spun his head around to see if any bruises or other signs of abuse littered his torso. But he only saw one single scar...

... leading from a spot in the centre of his chest and all the way up to the edge of his rugged jawline, ending in whisps near to the back of his neck

 _Wasn't that where Phantom was shot with the ecto-gun...?_

But Danny already had his shirt on, mismatched eyes glaring self-consciously at a frowning Dash. Now it had already brought to his attention Tucker's mind was whirring with thoughts; he could hardly believe that he hadn't noticed the clean white whisps of scars that ran across his jawline before. Was that what Sam had been so darn worried about? It was strange that Phantom had had burns that stretched to the exact same extent that Danny had, though he wasn't sure what those scorch marks had looked like in detail since he had been too far away from the stage. Maybe it was just a coincidence... he had always belived in those, hadn't he? Danny just couldn't be Phantom... it wasn't possible. Coincidence it was, then. There was no way that they were the same person because that would be so unbelieveably stupid; this is real life, not a dumb cartoon show! Glancing at Danny once more, Tucker noticed that he had finished changing and now busied himself with sorting out his tousled bangs in the mirror of an open gym locker. Almost as if he didn't want to make eye contact.

The gym outfits didn't look half bad on Danny either - the white shirt contrasted with the dark coloured ones he usually chose to wear and the gym shorts sat in exactly the right place instead of being awfully high or way too low. But he hadn't put on the navy knee-high socks you were supposed to wear; instead Danny had put on a pair of simple trainer socks, the edge of them only just peeking out from underneath sleek black and white Nike shoes. The logo on the side of said footware was clean and the thin while sole was sastifyingly brand new, therefore Tucker guessed they had to be recent purchases. Suddenly he felt eyes on him as he finished getting changed, and Tucker glanced at the mirror to see Danny was frowning at him through the class. It reminded him of when Sam would glare at him through the mirror on her worn makeup thingy-mabob though it was more puzzled then fierce. "You done tidying your hair up?, Justin Bieber?" Tucker commented nonchalantly, making Danny throw his head back and mess his already tousled hair up in laughter. Chuckling at his friend's red cheeks, Tucker stood up and followed Danny through a bunch of sweaty seniors who had just come in from jogging around campus or something like that.

"I can't _wait_ for gym..." Danny groaned sarcastically.

"Everyone does," Tucker responded dryly, patting the teenager sympathetically on the back.

"But then again," Danny chanted with fake cheeriness, "I could just go and... _Fentoover_... over this dumb obsticale course..." Sending him a dirty glare, Tucker stiflied his snort at the horrible pun/inside joke.

"Hey guys!" a familiar female voice chimed, and Sam skipped up to the duo with such happiness that Tucker was sure she was being possessed.

"Hi Sam," Tucker droned in a dreading tone, offering his friend a small smile. Upon seeing her wondering expression Tucker shook his head, twitching his head discreetly towards Danny and signing 'I'll tell you later' at her. Danny was only staring at them with a dumbfounded look, as if seeing their small soundless conversation and was really confused at their intentions. It was a language they had developed themselves, able to communicate through small mouth movements and finger swirls underneath the desk. Most people didn't notice it but Danny, seeming to be an extremely observant person even from his first impressions, had obviously perceived their small mother tongue just through studying their movements. Talk about uncanny.

"COME ON LADIES! GET YOUR BUTTS INTO GEAR BEFORE I PUT THEM INTO GEAR MYSELF!" Coach Tetslaff screamed in her unmistakeable man-like voice, flailing like a fish out of water at the other end of the sports hall. The trio glanced at her sourly, Tucker's annoyance climbing by the minute as she started squealing at Wesley for seemingly no reason at all, the teenager under her verbal terror ducking away to go and grab the basketballs so he could lob people on the obstacle course. Sighing, Danny started his way towards the group forming around the overweight gym teacher, while Sam hung back with Tucker and walked as slowly as they possibly could to let the conversation draw out.

"Did you see anything?" Sam whispered, careful of any students who could be earwigging.

"Well no bruises, but..." Tucker lowered his voice _below_ a whisper, "... but there was a scar."

"What did it look like?"

"Well it started in the exact same place that Phantom had been shot..."

"... wait, what?"

"You heard me, Samantha- OW!"

"Don't call me Samantha."

"I won't, calm the hell down."

"Well, anyway," Sam was red in the face, trying not to laugh as she watched Danny smack Dash with a basketball right around the face, "what were you going to say to me?"

"Oh yeah. It started in the same place as Phantom had been shot."

"Then?"

"I'm getting onto it!" Tucker grumbled bitterly, "anyway, as I was saying, it started on his chest and then went all the way up to where you saw the scars beside Phantom's jawline..."

"Well butter some bread and call me a biscuit. Danny can't be Phantom, can he?"

"That's what I thought."

"We did see them at the same time. They can't be the same person."

"Did I forget to mention that Danny is a human and Phantom is a ghost?"

"Yeah. They can't be the same person can they?"

"It's basically impossible, Tuck. Let's just leave it there or we'll completely fail this obstacle course..."

* * *

 **(Edited to be a lot better on the 4th of Feburary 2016 and changed the ending a bit)**

 **That's the end of chappie 8!**

 **To those of you who saw this before the edit, I'm so sorry how crappy it was XDD I wanted to get it up quicker and I kinda made a rash mistake. XD Also I'm so sorry it's short but I wanted to save the actual gym lesson for the next chapter since something happens that will get Sam and Tucker completely off course on their conclusion. I didn't have time to completely do the A/N last time buttt here, I'm back.**

 **The funny story of the chapter... hmm...**

 **Well every Wednesday we have enrichment, which is when you do an extra-curricular activity for an hour after school. I picked basketball but they forced me into Nature Photography.. yay...? Our teacher wasn't here and the headteacher was like "lol your problem not mine" so we set up a jumping course in the History room and jumped around for an hour. It was so hysterical XD**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **Reviews keep me motivated for a better chapter next time...  
I love reading good reviews and they make my heart flutter every single time...**

 **I aim for... 135-140 ... reviews! :D**

 **-Kinetic**


	9. Chapter 09: You Will Remember My Name

_What's that DP fanfiction when Sam moves to Amity and only she can see ghosts and she has to help ghosts pass through or something like that? -Kinetic_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 09:**  
You Will Remember My Name

. . .

Thank _Clockwork_ for ghost-enhanced healing abilites and that bottle of sweet, sweet purified ectoplasmic residue.

Before Danny had gotten to school, his body had been littered in purple scars and riddled with randomised scars that crisscrossed his pale torso. They would have been so painfully obvious in the boy's locker rooms as he got unchanged from his casual clothes and into his (disgusting) gym kit, so unmistakeable that someone would have been bound to get suspiscious about what was going on at home or elsewhere. They would have probably called the police and right now the police were not a reliable option for him, counting the fact that they had believed Jack Fenton's falsehood of a thief murdering Jasmine even though he performed the deed himself. But thankfully, oh how thankful he was, he had managed to glug down so much ectoplasm - half the bottle, actually - in one go that all but one scar disappeared and faded into nothing but unblemished skin. The down side to this was that the one scar that actually survived his ghost-enhanced healing abilities was the biggest one out of them all; the scar he had recieved from the ghost showcase on Sunday. While he's only had it for two days so far it was still pretty severe, with the bullet-like hole on his chest that whisped up his throat and all the way to the back of his neck. Quite obvious, isn't it? Surprisingly, no one saw it, though if Tucker had he didn't mention it at all.

With a strained exhale, the raven-haired teenager dragged a shivering hand through his tousled bangs and watched through dulled multicoloured eyes as Dash raced for the obstacle course without so much as faltering to look it over. The air was thick and clogged with rancid sweat, even denser in his ghost-enhanced sense of smell. It made him grimance inside but he was careful not to show it, overly paranoid about other students growing suspiscious through years of his mistrust being useful to him; even the sound of someone clumping angrily down the stairs made him go ridgid in fretfulness. From beside him, Tucker's teal blue eyes were staring at his neck, and with heedful studying through the corner of his eyes he suddenly realised that the techno-geek was gawking at the scar that ran along his rugged jawline. The halfa sighed, dropping his gaze to his black Nike trainers. This was what he had been afraid of ever since he had gotten the blemish from the Fenton Ecto-Gun in the ghost weapon showcase - someone was _bound_ to notice the marks, since they were pretty clear against his skin. Thankfully most of it was hidden underneath his shirt but he was unable to conceal the cicatrix on his jowl and the back of his neck. Why the ectoplasm hadn't healed that one scar, ironically the biggest out of them all so far, was something that only Clockwork could tell him (though Danny often had enough trouble trying to understand him through the riddles and rhymes).

"Tucker?" Danny frowned, finally getting anxious underneath his friend's staring as his turn to run the obstacle course came nearer and nearer, "a-are you alright? You've been... uh... blanked out for a while." For a moment the dark-skinned teenager blankly looked up at Danny, before he suddenly blinked and curved his lips up in a small, startled smile.

"Ohh. S-sorry, dude. I'm just... tired," Tucker stuttered, as if trying to cover up a falsehood. Laughing, Danny placed a hand on his shoulder as if in sympathy, though he wasn't quite sure that the techno-geek was telling the entire truth. He certainly didn't look exhausted in any way.

"Same, Tucker, same."

"Danny," Tucker asked seriously, "are you okay? You look drained, man..."

Waving dismissively, Danny offered Tucker a zonked, lopsided grin. "Like I said," he mumbled, mismatched eyes flickering towards the reluctant nerds that were at the front of the line for their turn on the obstacle course, "I'm just really... _tuckered_ out..."

"Did you really just make that pun," Tucker deadpanned, not really saying it as if it were a question more as if it were a proper sentence.

"Yes, yes I did," Danny purred curtly at his friend's poker-faced expression.

"You literally have no idea how much I hate you right now, dude."

"Don't worry; I hate you too."

"Awww," said a female voice from behind the duo, "already arguing like an old married couple. How adorable!" Spinning around, Danny wasn't surprised in the least to see Sam Manson stood there casually, leaning on one leg and smirking like a maniac. The raven-haired halfa narrowed his mismatched eyes, returning the grin with one of his own and fully turning his attention away from Tucker, who was watching Sam with the smuggest expression against his face. There was a silence between the trio, before Sam straightened herself up to speak once more. "It's nearly your turn, Tucker." The teenager under question wrinkled his nose and glanced towards the gradually shortening line, sharing Danny's sour expression as Wes anxiously approached Coach Tetslaff to take his turn at the obstacle course. It was obvious that Tucker despised gym class, maybe from lack of skill nor athletic talent; but Danny wasn't actually confident whether he enjoyed it or not. After all, it was his first time doing physical education at Casper High. Back at Biffany in coastal California, he had actually been pretty decent at his gym classes and had achieved a hefty A- for his efforts. Were the grading systems different here? Hopefully he'd be able to get a good mark; new school, new start and all that bullshit.

"Go away Samantha," Tucker grumbled sarcastically, his voice bitter though hinted with amusement. The gothic teenager sent him a withering glare though it didn't seem to be too serious in Danny's eyes.

"Hi Sam," Danny chirped brightly, tousled hair shaking as he let out a short chuckle, "I don't want to do this stupid obstacle course, dude...ette...?" Laughing awkwardly, Danny stuck his tongue out at a sniggering Sam and threw a comical face at Tucker. The trio were quiet for a moment, Danny uncomfortable in the stifling heat of the sports hall. Warmth had never been his friend that much; he had always relished in the icy coldness of biting areas and the Ghost Zone due to his ghostly ice core. Coach Tetslaff's voice was unmistakeable and easily distuinguishable from the other chattering power of speeches that echoed within the moulding sports hall, the rough tone making Danny let out such an ugly snort that Sam looked at him in a funny manner. The trio shared a look before Sam put her forehead into her hands, mumbling something that resembled 'why am I friends with him', to which Danny reacted to with a false-offended hand over his chest.

"Oh, how you scar my heart," the raven-haired teen stated dramatically, falling to the floor in such am exaggerated style that Dash actually looked concerned for his mental safety from across the room.

"Yeah, okay, Lover Boy," Sam laughed, though her cheeks were tinted a visible red at his comical antics.

Danny pleasureably took in the way that Sam looked adorable when she blushed before clambering lazily to his feet, black and white Nike trainers squeaking against the polished wooden flooring. Giving Tucker a not-so-sympathetic pat on the back, Danny just laughed. "Good luck Tuck," he remarked, deciding not to be pityful due to the fact that he enjoyed being a douchebag sometimes. Then he gave _himself_ a pat on the back and chuckled, making Sam give him a funny look. "Oh, I am such an unintentional poet," he commented in a posh British accent, secretly thinking _that_ _the Ghost Writer would be so proud of me_.

Sam coughed into the crook of her elbow, though it sounded suspisciously like 'bad luck Tuck' to Danny's enhanced ghost hearing.

"Ooh whatcha saaay~..." Tucker sung quietly, making Danny look over at him.

"Why are you singing Jason Derulo...?"

"I'm tryna put off the fact that Tetslaff is screaming my name like a friggin' banshee," Tucker responded nonchalantly as if it were obvious, and Sam snorted from behind Danny.

"Exactly," she chortled amusingly, "we always do it. Pissing Tetslaff off is one of my hobbies. I have a list at home of ways to really piss her off."

"I have mental lists too; what not to touch, what foods I shouldn't put in my microwave, what I shouldn't eat, what I need to fix, what ghosts I- ahhh... I mean, what ghosts my parents catch because I don't do ghost hunting, why would I do that? Harharhar, you guys are so funny and all that jazz, so paranoid," Danny rushed out quickly, catching himself not-so-smoothly. How stupid could he get; he nearly just splurted out his other half's existence! It was slip-ups like this that had given out his secret to his parents, who hadn't taken kindly to the news... so why should he trust anyone else with it? That was exactly why he needed to keep the fact that was half-ghost a complete secret, so he wouldn't get hurt more then he already was. Secrets lead to pain if leaked, apparantly; well, it did in his lifetime anyway. From beside him, Tucker was casting the anxious teenager a curious look, though it could have passed off as suspiscious to careful eyes.

"Why can't you put food in your microwave?" Tucker questioned, inquisitive teal blue eyes sparkling in contrast to Danny's dulled mismatched eyes. Throwing her head back, Sam laughed in sudden realisation.

"Oh, you told me about that when I first met you!" she said excitedly, her voice blocking out another angry scream from Tetslaff, "you can't put food in your microwave because it brings things to life! I think that's great; I want to come to your house so much. Sounds awesome, with your parents' cool job and all that."

Alarmed at the mention of his parents, Danny felt the tips of his ears heat up and dragged a hand through the white streak in his raven hair. Did she know about who his parents were and all that? Was she at the showcase? Actually, basically half the town had attended; most of the school probably did too. "O-oh, yea... were you at the showcase?" he asked to be sure, sending a withering glare at Tucker as the dark-skinned teenager poked him sharply in the ribcage, then glancing at Sam with a look that said 'I'll tell you later'. Curiously, Danny bit his lip and looked on as the duo silently spoke, before straightening up when Sam went to respond to his quiery. The small pause in their conversation was dropped and the awkwardness ended there and then, thankfully for Danny, who was getting antsy as his ghost sense tickled his throat again. The one thing he didn't understand is why his ghost sense is being stubborn and just staying in his throat. If there was a ghost, of course it would float out in the form of a light blue mist, but it seemed like it was just threatening to do so without actually moving to do it.

"Yeah, I was, Danny," she responded curtly, then lightened her expression and offered him a small smile, "you looked as if you knew what you were doing with those ghost weapons, y'know. More then your parents did."

"Oh crud, you saw me in an _orange_ HAZMAT suit." Danny gradually grew a bright red colour and put a hand on his forehead, chuckling under his breath from complete and utter embarrasment. From beside them, Tucker was staring at Sam with a mocking smirk and had his eyes narrowed into amused slits.

"You didn't look too bad, Danny," Sam cooed light-heartedly, the humor evident in her tone. An ugly snort echoed out from Tucker and he had a hand clamped over his mouth, most likely attempting to stop the laughs coming out of his lips though came to no avail. Sending both teenagers a scornful glare of dissaproval, Danny hid his mild confusion at the techno-geek's amused reaction to the complement and instead chose to brush it off as an inside joke between the two. Sometimes he felt rather left out when they shared a knowing glance, or laughed at something that no one else found funny whatsoever, but he knew that they had known each other for a long time and shouldn't be thinking about that when he's only known them for one and a half days. They were really nice and even though they were complete opposites to each other they really fit well together; Danny felt like he had known them forever judging by how friendly they were towards him.

"I was wearing a skintight suit that looks like spandex," Danny remarked, quirking an eyebrow at Sam's skeptical expression.

"Spiderman," Tucker said randomly, making Sam frown and Danny snort in laughter. The dark-skinned geek shrugged, chortling along with Danny.

"You guys heard of Spooderma-"

"FOLEY, GET YOUR FAT BUTT OVER HERE!"

Casting an embittered glare at Coach Tetslaff for cutting him off in his 'Spooderman' query, Danny placed a careful hand on Tucker's shoulder. "'cause when the roof caved in and the truth came out, he just didn't know what to dooo~..." he sung softly, bending the lyrics to 'Whatcha Say' by Jason Derulo, which was the song Tucker had been singing earlier on. There was a pause and Sam laughed, her cheeks tinged red as Danny continued humerously. "How could he live with himself, knowing that he'll have to goo..."

"Mmm whatcha sayyy, oh that Tetslaff only meant well..." Sam joined in, making Tucker cringe back.

"Well of course she does..." Danny continued, voice comical but soft and harmonised. The teenager they were singing to was red in the face, cracking up in laughter as the duo danced around.

"He was so wrong for so long, only tryna please Tetslaff..." Sam crooned, chuckling when Danny joined in and harmonised the end nicely.

"You two are nutte-" Tucker began, only to get cut off by Sam again.

"'cause when the roof caved in and the truth came out he just didn't know what to doooo..."

"But when he becomes a star..." Danny sung out, spinning in a circle and sassily kicking his left leg out in a ninja-like style.

"He'll be livin' so large..."

Then both of them sung together, not even reacting as Tucker pulled out his PDA all the while oblivious to their angry gym coach marching towards them. "HE'LL DO ANYTHIN' FOR TETSLAFFFF!" After completeing a successful slide on the polished floor on his knees (which gave him rather painful friction burn), Danny pulled up some jazz hands and smiled cheesily at Tucker, who was practically hanging off Sam as they laughed together. The trio were in piles of hysterical giggles at Sam and Danny's comical antics; in fact, Danny was so engrossed into laughing that he failed to notice three things about their surroundings. One, everyone was silently staring at them, all wearing concerned or amused expressions as they watched the three of them chortle. Two, Tetslaff would have steam coming out of her ears and train noises would echo around the sports hall if they were in a cartoon. Three, Danny's ghost sense was floating out between his lips, though no one seemed to notice it. Suddenly he widened his eyes, seeing the light blue mist and feeling the familiar cascade of shivers that trickled throughout his body, which was shaking in now quiet laughter.

"Foley, Manson, Fentoover," Tetslaff hissed bitterly at them, making the trio silent instantly. _Fentoover?_ Danny raised an eyebrow, momentarily forgetting about his small dilemma, "detentions for singing and lau-"

"Uh, coach? Can I go to the bathroom?" Danny cut her (again, him?) off, putting his hand up for some unknown reason. The overweight gym teacher stared at the raven-haired teenager for a few short moments before reluctantly guestering to the heavy doors that would lead into the corrider with the boy's locker room in. Thanking her with a small smile, Danny stumbled to his feet and trotted across the sports hall, Nike shoes squeaking in the awkward silence. The only thing he could hear as he left was Tucker shouting 'GO AWAY SAMANTHA' before the shutting of doors cut him off.

 **(A/N: Did you guys laugh at that? I was listening to that song while writing it. The song is 'Whatcha Say' by Jason Durelo. It's amazing. -Kinetic.)**

. . .

"I don't trust that he's going to the bathroom, Tucker."

"I do."

"That's because your so lax. C'mon, let's follow."

"Ew, no! You're such a pervet, Sam."

"Whatevs, I'm goin'. Cya, Bad Luck Tuck."

"Hey! That's rude!"

"I know."

. . .

"Right, so who is it this time?" Danny grumbled while floating mid-air, too irked at the suddenly somber weather in Amity Park's usually clear blue skies. If he was to be honest, he was really looking forwards to a simple ghost fight in the lovely cold weather and beautiful skies - of course, that wasn't given to him and he was already basically drenched in icy rainwater. The water soaked the ghost's tousled ivory hair and caused it to stick to his forehead, frustrating him in this annoying dampness. Turning intangible to shake the liquid off him completely bypassed his brain, the halfa being far too preoccupied on finding the offending ghost that had alerted his senses. Unlike California, most of the ghosts in Amity Park were hostile and only came through to the realm of the living in order to cause havoc and piss of anyone they happened to see. Back in his old home they sometimes just popped by to say hello, or deliver something. Whenever they would threaten anyone Danny would arrive and they would cheese it out of the area, knowing that halfas were extremely territorial. Especially Phantom, who was one of the most powerful ghosts on the scale (sitting at a solid 9.7 - 0.3 below Pariah Dark himself), and was smart enough to know when to bother him or not.

Glancing around, Danny transformed his legs into a slinky spectral tail and cracked his gloved knuckles in anticipation. He was just about to investigate a stray ginger cat that jogged breezily across his line of vision when a glowing pink fist slammed into his body, launching him hard into the nearest wall; the back wall of the sports hall, where the outdoor gym equipment such as rounder's bats were kept. A hoarse gasp escaped his dry throat, though it hitched sorrowfully and no sound came out. The attack had been so sudden that turning intangible passed through his brain like sand through your fingers and his back blossomed into tendrils of stabbing pain. There was a moment of disorientation, where his head had collided with the bricks and black spots danced across his vision. Every sound around him was dimmed in large ratios, then suddenly returning to normal and making the halfa groan out in pain. He lay sprawled across the emerald grass, trying to stop the world from spinning and his head stop aching. _Who the hell did that...?_ he grumbled mentally, his brain struggling to send simple signals to his already groggy nerves.

The sound of a guitar strumming pierced his ears and Danny drooped his shoulders, eyes hardening. A long, heavy groan escaped the halfa's lips, though it was more from frustration then from anguish. The one and only rockstar ghost Ember McLain, quickly nicknamed Ember McLame as soon as Danny had seen her flying around in California. While she hadn't been much trouble back on the coast, she had certainly been annoying and she was nearly as common as the Box Ghost. This ghost sat at a firm 4.9 on the power scale and wasn't much of a threat as long as you caught her quickly. Ember has long, flaming, teal hair put into a ponytail at the top of her head held back, as well as two locks of hair framing her face which look like a sharp-angled "M" and violet lipstick. Able to control the temperature of her hair in order to be hot enough to use it as an attack or to be low enought to use hats and even control where if it looks like fire or real hair, Ember was certainly an interesting ghost. Like most other ghosts, her eyes are shaded a deep forest green, darker then Danny's ectoplasmic green ones. Her clothing is attractive and appealing in nature even if Danny didn't like it as much as Skulker, consisting of a black choker around her neck, a black one-shouldered tank-top exposing her midriff, one long glove that covers most of her right arm, and one black bracelet on her left arm. Something told Danny that Sam would like her choice of style. "Ember, I'm meant to be in gym class right now. You know I'm still half human, right? Tetslaff thinks I'm in the bathroom," Danny told the rockstar ghost, stubbornly crossing his arms. The ecto-blast died down on his fist as soon as he realised that Ember's eyes were different to their usual emerald green.

... they were _red_.

Not her usual angry red, but a blood-lusted ceries, blank and cunning all the same.

"E-Ember?" Danny stuttered, patting around his belt to find his Fenton Thermos. Unable to feel it on his waist the halfa's eyes flew wide open and his breath hitched at the back of his dry throat. The rockstar ghost was floating in front of him, silent and unmoving but obviously alive (dead?). Suddenly she spoke out, though it didn't sound as lively and smug as it usually did; it was monotone, as if she were not in control at all.

"I deliver a message to you, Danny Phantom," Ember stated dully, making the halfa tense up in his mid-air spot. She continued to speak, but it just didn't sound right. It made Danny rather concerned for her safety...

" _esti zorgema de la unu kiu sekvas vian reĝadon_ "

That was all she said, before she disappeared in a cloud of sickly dark green and purple smoke. The words stuck in Danny's mind, and as he translated them from ghost speak into English he could feel a lump forming in his throat.

' _be careful_

 _of the one_

 _who follows_

 _your_

 _ **reign**_ '

* * *

 **That's chapter nine, folks!**

 **Looks like I was able to get out of my hermit shell quicker then I thought, eh? I had a bad day and I just typed this up and was like 'well this'll do' and here we go! Thanks for 147 reviews by the way ;D**

 **The funny story of the chapter is something that happened yesterday *cough*...  
So I was cantering my pony Charley in a twenty-metre circle (only some will understand) around my rubber arena. It was really windy and he was very spooky but I was alright... until he suddenly bolted and skidded in such a sharp circle that I was literally _flung_ off his saddle and into the metre-high jump I was planning on doing after I got him warmed up and ready. Then, after I caught him and got back on, I went to trot him down the centre line of the arena and he suddenly put his head down and delivered the hugest buck ever; I fell onto his neck, couldn't get back up and he put his head down, causing me to fall on my face off him while he looked at me like "wtf mum?". XD**

 **Please Review!**

 **It motivates a reader to deliver a good chapter and keeps them  
going! I love reading them and they make me so so so so so so  
HAPPY! So I'd really appriciate a super nice review; please  
be honest, too. Lies are not appriciated!**

 **I would love it if you guys told me why this is different to other abuse fics? Someone said it  
was very different and I'm wondering whether that's good or bad, lmaoo.**

 **CAN WE GET 155+ REVIEWS?! :DD**

 **-Kinetic**


	10. Chapter 10: A Bit Of Research

_**PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU MOAN:** I know Tucker knows a bit of Esperontonian (Ghost Speak), but since this is an AU, I'm saying he doesn't. -Kinetic_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 10:**  
A Bit Of Research

. . .

Sam Manson's heavy gym trainers were surprisingly silent against the cracked flooring tiles of Casper High's locker room corridor as she trailed after her raven-haired friend, unknown to him of course. While Danny Fenton could be perfectly described as an enigma wrapped in a mystery, he seemed like quite a down to earth kind of guy; he didn't stress out over the tiniest things unlike a certain Latina A-Lister and had a striking sense of humour on his good days. When she and him had been singing comically to a grouchy Tucker, he had been positively hysterical and Sam couldn't stop laughing as they suddenly began crooning the exact same lyrics of their bent version of that song. One thing you wouldn't catch her saying out loud to anybody was that Danny's singing voice was remarkable, even if they had only been joking around; on a few lines that she had been singing, he had joined in and harmonised the end of the sentence with an angelic tone. Silently she had been gawking at his chorus, her mind blowing like a nuclear bomb. If there was one thing that Danny was unexpectedly good at it was singing, because he didn't seem to be the kind of guy who would have such an impressive voice.

So why was Sam following Danny as he supposedly made his way to the bathroom, you may be asking? It was fairly obvious, well to her it was anyways; she was far too suspicious of his behaviour _before_ he needed to go do his business. Firstly, she had noticed he had violently shivered and suddenly tensed up, then studied the area with calculating multicoloured eyes as if to be sure whether there was anything that could be potentially damaging towards him or other people. Then she had seen his breath cloud up in front of his face even though the sweat-ridden sports hall was uncomfortably scorching. But what had irked her attention was the tinting to the puff; instead of being colourless like it was supposed to, it was shaded a light blue colour and seemed more solidified then your average cloud of breath. As well as this there was the fact that he had a scar exactly where Phantom had been shot with the Fenton Ecto-Gun, which was something to be very suspicious about. In a way it was actually concerning. What could simple Danny Fenton be hiding from the rest of them?

From around the corner, Sam watched Danny disappear into the boy's locker room. Right now it seemed as if he was hiding nothing, but Sam was determined to unwrap the enigma that was ruthlessly pounding at her brain - for only a few seconds she glanced away from the door to check if any mud was on one of her combat boots when a flash of blinding blue light caught her attention in the corner of her eye. Wondering whether Danny was alright she turned fully, still not daring to move from her spot behind the lockers. Was he okay? What was that light? There was a brief silence within the sports hall corridor and Sam was tensing up every second of it, terrified that Danny had been injured from the strange flash of blue luminosity. Was it perhaps related to a ghost? This thought made Sam even more anxious about her newer friend's safety; well, at least it did before _a ghost flew out of the very door Danny had gone through_. Luckily, it was one she recognised, one that she wasn't so much scared of but more thankful to see around Amity Park.

It was Phantom.

Her brow furrowed as the familiar white-haired ghost hovered in mid-air, ectoplasmic green eyes darkened and calculating in the dim lighting of the corridor. For a terrifying moment, the teenager spirit's line of vision crossed over her and she held her breath, suddenly aware of a ghost's dramatically enhanced senses. Had he seen her? Where was Danny? It was highly unlikely, in her opinion anyway, that Phantom would injure someone innocent like Danny was. After all, he seemed like a good-natured young ghost around people and had even started to defeat the ghosts that the Red Huntress had always had so much trouble with before the ghost-hunting Fenton family came around Amity. The Red Huntress had even had a bit of difficulty getting rid of the Box Ghost before and Phantom had cleared him off with that (stolen?) Fenton Thermos. Why Jack and Maddie hated him, only God could know; he had even been a willing test subject for the ghost weapon showcase. To be honest, Sam wouldn't be surprised if he had done it in other places as well. The fact that he was allowed to fly around freely confused her more. She would have thought that they'd keep him captive or something - not that she wanted them to do that, because she didn't think it was really needed for such a golden-hearted ghost.

Finally Phantom moved out of the corridor, phasing through the wall while muttering in a different language. The goth stayed in her spot for a few seconds before deciding to trail after the ghost, not wanting to check in on Danny just in case he was doing his business (plus she was a girl and he was in a boy's locker room). Surely he'd be startled when he saw Phantom in the same room as him? Then, as realisation dawned down on her like a blooming flower, Sam nearly laughed. Of course he wouldn't be; he basically lives with ghosts! _And maybe insane, abusive parents if my conclusion is correct,_ she added on silently, stopping at a window that looked out over the school field behind the sports hall. It was a perfect spot to study what Phantom was doing, and right now he looked like he was confronting another ghost. She recognised the offending spectre as Ember, the rockstar ghost who had supposedly died in a fire. The first time Amity had seen her was when he had tried to take over the world by making everyone chant her name to get more power. The Red Huntress had had a bit of trouble with her but eventually she had stopped visiting Amity Park.

"Ember... meant... class... still half human...right?" she heard Phantom's voice, but only parts of what he had said.

She looked over to the right a bit and noticed a dent in the wall just below the window; it suddenly occurred to her that Phantom had been slammed into the now cracked bricks and, as usual, she had been so engrossed in Ember that she hadn't noticed it happen. Hopefully he hasn't seen her, not yet anyway. Still wondering where in the world Danny was, she watched on as Phantom's ectoplasmic green eyes roamed over Ember with an almost concerned gleam in them. It was hard to hear, but she could just make out a muffled voice from the other side of the glass. "E-Ember?" she heard Phantom stutter, watching his panicking expression as he patted around his silver belt for something. Maybe he was looking for a Fenton Thermos? The rockstar ghost was floating lifelessly in front of him, silent and unmoving unlike usual. It didn't seem like her to be so... _dead_... (well of course it was, but you get what she meant).

Suddenly Ember spoke out, though it didn't sound as lively and smug as it did when she was dancing around on stage; almost as if she wasn't in control. "I deliver a message to you, Danny Phantom," the teal-haired spectre stated in a monotone voice. The ghost under question visibly tensed and Sam's mind was racing with new thoughts. _Danny_ Phantom? Wasn't it just Phantom? Why did Danny Fenton and Phantom have the same name? Surely, this was just a mere coincidence and nothing more; it's not like the name 'Danny' is extremely uncommon. About to move away to properly process the thoughts, Sam's attention was grabbed by Ember speaking once more, in the same dull tone as before;

"Esti zorgema de la unu kiu sekvas vian reĝadon."

That was all she said before disappearing within a cloud of sickly green and velvet purple smoke, just like Phantom had when he had teleported away the evening before after dealing with the Box Ghost, leaving Phantom floating alone with a morbid expression on his even paler face. There was no good emotion traced onto his features; just realisation and absolute horror. Not sure of the language or what she had said, Sam noticed that it obviously terrified _Danny_ Phantom to the bone... that would be if he had any, of course. "What the..." she heard Phantom mumble through the crack in the window - she leaned in closer to hear what else he was saying. "Shit, shit, shit... It can't be... _him_..." Furrowing her brow, Sam backed away from the glass; out of the corner of her violet eyes she could see Phantom plop to the ground and teleport away in his own cloud of smoke.

"Esti zorgema de la unu kiu sekvas vian reĝadon," she repeated slowly, "what language is that? And why was Phantom so scared?" With a long sigh, Sam walked back towards the sports hall with swinging strides, still pondering about everything she had learnt. Only five minutes or so had been killed and it was unlikely that Tucker was finished his turn on the obstacle course yet, judging by his non-existent athletic ability and lack of decent motivation. Cracking her knuckles she pushed the heavy doors into the sports hall open, sauntering up to Tucker with a thoughtful expression. The techno-geek cast her an interested look and was about to open his mouth to speak when suddenly Danny burst through the door, his raven hair tousled and messy as if he had been running very fast to get here. Both teenagers watched him as he jogged over to them before Tucker finally decided to speak.

"You sure took your sweet time," he remarked shortly, earning a laugh from Danny. Breaths came out short and multicoloured eyes looked wild in slight terror, but Sam didn't ask about it; she was just concerned about whether he was okay (and secretly gawking at how handsome he looked while blushing out of exhaustion).

"Danny, did any ghosts hurt you while you were in the bathroom?" she asked. Danny stiffened visibly, running a hand through his white-streaked raven hair.

"Uh..." he trailed off awkwardly, "n-no, not at all. I just saw a ghost go past me, that's all." Beaming a half-hearted smile at them, Danny moved to lean on Tucker's shoulder; the African American didn't even flinch as the weight of his friend was put onto one side of him, causing him to move his own mass onto the opposite leg in order to keep his balance.

"What ghost?" the techno-geek questioned, nonchalantly patting Danny's head like a dog.

"Uh... Phantom," Danny responded sheepishly, though his hesitation made Sam raise an eyebrow, "I didn't bother doing anything; I know Phantom's the good guy around here."

"Obviously," the gothic teenager snorted. Casting her a puzzled look, Tucker patted Danny some more.

"Why is it obvious?" he asked dumbly, mumbling under his breath about something to do with growing pain.

"Because we brought Phantom with us from California," Danny answered for her while finally straightening himself up, "though my parents wanted to leave him behind. I knew that he'd like Amity Park so my dad popped him in a thermos and drove him over with us. We couldn't let him go before the showcase; he's darn well hard to catch when he doesn't want to be caught." Seeing Tucker about to open his mouth made Danny continue, a knowing expression on his features. "He's hard to catch because he's fast, and rather smart too. If my parents look in the Zone then he'll be in our reality plain somewhere. If they look here then he'll be in the Zone. If they split up and look both ways he'll pop himself in the Fenton Thermos I keep under my bed, unknown to my parents. But they're catching on now; last time I was caught talking to Phantom my folks be- I mean, my folks grounded me." Raising an eyebrow at Danny's stutter, Sam looked to Tucker; who had his mouth closed from the thankful lack of a new question for Danny. It was a bit suspicious how he kept catching himself every time he mentioned his parents in Sam's opinion; perhaps her conclusion could be correct? It sure seemed like it so far. But they had only known each other for two days now, so she couldn't really ask him about it, could she?

"Huh," she said, narrowed her violet eyes, "what's the Zone again?"

"The Ghost Zone," Danny began, taking a gulp of his familiar metal bottle, "is an alternate form of reality, home to all of the ghosts, and made entirely of purified ectoplasmic radiation. The very fabric of the Zone co-exists with our living reality plain; their mutual and duel existences are interlinked; they are the proverbial 'flip side of the coin' to each other." It was practised, as if he had said it so many times. "I haven't been there physically, but I've been in the Spectre Speeder while in there and it's actually super cool. So many purple doors..." A hand on the back of his neck as what Sam now knew as an awkward gesture, Danny shifted uncomfortably as Tucker urged him to continue. The techno-geek looked positively obsessed with more information at this point. "Uh... each ghost has their own lair in the Zone, the place they live in." This made Sam perk up; she took a step closer and bit her tongue in anticipation, throwing a look at Tucker even though he didn't catch it.

"Does Phantom have a lair?" she asked nonchalantly, watching Danny take another sip from the bottle - he must be really thirsty. He only nodded at her, mismatched eyes anxious. Something else struck her mind, but she decided not to mention it. When they were more comfortable with each other she would ask whether his sister had gotten a lair when she had died. That was something most likely personal to him, after all he did have to watch a thief do the horrible deed according to Mr. Lancer...

...right?

. [ _time skip to after school_ ] .

The bell's shrill echo rang through the classroom, soon overtaken by the sound of chairs scraping against tiles and exersise books being slapped into the box labelled with their class name. The teacher, a scrawny younger history teacher by the name of Mr. Gant, was unable to keep his students in their seats as they pelted out of the door, cheering and whooping out of excitement for the end of the school day. Only three students remained in the room, chatting comfortably and laughing over inside jokes while they packed their bags. One of the three, Danny, seemed antsy to go and it made Sam a bit doubtful; she offered him a smile before finally lugging her backpack over her shoulders. "Guys," the raven-haired teenager began, "I gotta go. My dad'll kill me if I'm late home. See you tomorrow?" Passing Tucker a poker-faced glance, Sam shoved him on the shoulder playfully and laughed when he shied away from her touch. _Not keen on contact?_ she frowned, mentally assessing his behaviour. Now it was Tucker's turn to furrow his brow and he gave her a look, though he didn't appear so sure.

"Bye," the techno-geek waved Danny off, "try not to run me over with your skateboard again!" Laughing heartily, Danny pulled his board out of his backpack and chucked it onto the floor, wincing at the clatter of the plastic wheels against tiles. He smiled lopsidedly before hopping onto the board and taking off down the corridor despite Mr. Gant's protests. Both Sam and Tucker watched him disappear around the corner at speeds that surely couldn't be possible, then said goodbye to the teacher and strolled through the now empty corridors. Only a few seniors remained, taking books out of their lockers and talking to each other with quiet voices.

"Tucker, come with me to the library. I'll tell you why on the way. Come on!" Sam grabbed his wrist fearlessly, whipping down the hallway while yanking him along with her. The African American looked rather terrified but he came along anyway, it wasn't like he any choice after all; Sam was strong, unusally strong for a girl in his opinion. This had always been frowned upn by Sam but she had learn to ignore him over the years.

"Mind explaining, Usain Bolt?" Tucker asked, trying desperately to wriggle out of her grip as they bolted out of the hallways and onto the street, in the direction of the library. The sun was warm on their backs, golden rays bursting through the thundery grey clouds and drying up the puddles that remained still in the potholes on the tarmac roads. There was no breeze and not even the splaying oak trees were shifting, leaving the world around them perfectly silent and peaceful in it's own way. No cars passed them, but at one point three equestrians on bay, chestnut and a dapple grey ponies trotted past, the clicking of the metallic horseshoes rhythmic and rather relaxing in their ears. In fact, the rider on the grey had given an exhausted Tucker a short motivational speech consisiting of 'you can do it! You can out-fast-walk your emo girlfriend!', which had earnt a laugh from Sam and the other two riders.

"Okay, okay. We''ll stop fast-walking now. I'll go ahead and tell you what I found out today... So after I followed Danny like some sort of Slenderman, I saw Phantom, right. He flew out of where Danny had been and I saw Phantom confront that Ember ghost - no, don't sing please - on the sports field. I overheard their conversation and some things were said that add up but don't at the same time... I heard Phantom say something like 'half human' or somethin' like that anyway. Then I overheard Ember call Phantom 'Danny Phantom'. Then I heard some sort of foreign language that I don't really know. Isn't it strange that both Danny and Phantom have the same first name? That can't be a coincidence, can it?"

"What was the sentence?" Tucker asked, suddenly curious. The interested sparkle in his teal blue eyes nearly made Sam snort, though she was careful to hold back her laughter.

"Esti zorgema de la unu kiu sekvas vian reĝadon," Sam repeated skillfully, impressed with herself that she had managed to remember what Ember had said throughout the entire school day. It had stayed in her brain, as if she were trying to mentally decipher the language it had been spoken in and what it would be decrypted into. But she hadn't; instead she had been watching Danny's twitchy behaviour, frowning as he shied away from touch and raising an eyebrow at his thoughtful (and slightly terrifed) expression during classes. All of it was still making her suspisious, even if he brushed it off. It could have been the incident he experienced while he was younger, but she couldn't be sure of that since he barely even flinched when the subject came up. Still, Danny remained as an enigma wrapped in a mystery... for now, anyway. They were going to work him out soon enough, even if it did cost them a bit of their time. It wasn't stalking or perving, no; they're concerned for him. Even though Tucker had disagreed with her abused theory, she could see him look at Danny with worry in his teal blue eyes everytime their friend flinched away from touch or gave Dash a glare when he came nearby. Maybe the African American was finally leaning over to her side...

"I'm not entirely sure," Tucker began thoughtfully, his stride matching Sam's as they stepped over the cracks in the sidewalk, "but I think that's what the Red Huntress calls 'Ghost Speak'. It's a strange language, though I think Amity's trademark translator website can decode it. There should be one of those microphone thingies in it and if not I'll just break the computer to find out how to speak into it." This made Sam laugh a little, violet eyes sparkling at his light humor. "And I think one of the ghost information books in the library can tell you about the half human bit." A shiver cascaded through Sam as the sun disappeared behind a clump of thundery grey clouds, the air around her suddenly turning cold. She frowned up at the skies bitterly, her mind now focused on figuring out why the moment the sun disappears it got really, really cold - trust the Amity Park weather. It must be strange for Danny to move away from California and into this crummy town since their weather patterns were do different, but she hadn't seen Danny look cold once yet. If she had done the same move of location she would have taken a long time to get used to the change. How long had they been in Amity Park, since Saturday?

"But the term 'half human'... where would that be in ghost termonology?" she asked, her violet eyes catching onto the library doors just a block or so ahead. Instantly she broke into a jog, causing Tucker to groan aloud and yell at her to slow down so he could answer. But she refused and continued going at a steady pace until he skidded to a stop at the library doors.

"Sam you bitch! Why did you run?" Tucker said sourly, giving her a light-hearted punch in the shoulder. Rubbing the abused area, Sam threw her head back and laughed at her friend's laziness.

"Because I really want to find out where the term 'half human' comes in to ghost termonology. You didn't answer my question," she responded curtly, sending him a biytter middle finger before disappearing into the library.

. . .

"Tucker! Tucker, I think I've found something about the half human thing. Look..."

" _A Halfa is the widely-known term for a half-human, half-ghost hybrid. They are extremely rare in our world and often turn out more powerful then full ghost speciemen._ _One main characteristic of one these hybrids is that they can shift from 'human' form to 'ghost' form at their own accord. This transformation, usually back into their human form, can also be trigged through exhaustion or lack of experience_ ," Tucker read aloud, leaning over from his computer to peer at the book Sam was paging through, "a halfa? A half-human, half-ghost hybrid? That's... strange, but possible I guess."

"As _a hybrid species, half-ghosts' DNA are a combination of Human DNA and Ectoplasm, as the result of the exposure to high levels of ghost energy_." Sam read some more, her smile slightly wide as she looked over the words in interest. "So it's not a natural thing in the life - death - cycle. It has to happen from some sort of accident, right? How can you turn into a 'halfa', then...?"

"I don't know. Exposure to ghost energy... perhaps if you get blasted by a lot of ghosts at the same time?" Tucker suggested brightly, "read a bit more and maybe we'll find out, Sam."

"Okay; _The Human-Ghosts can be almost as or even more dangerous than a typical ghost, with equal if not above average levels of power and use the advantage of their human side against defenses like ghost shields. They also seem to have certain immunity to several ghostly effects. Unfortunately, Halfas are vulnerable to other ghost weaknesses like Blood Blossoms or Ecto-ranium, and are able to be controlled by Freakshow's Crystal Ball Staff._ "

"Is that all?"

"That is literally all they have on halfas', Tucker."

"Interesting... do y'think Ember is half human and Phantom was just pointing it out? Because Ember is quite humane sometimes," Tucker implied, clicking about some more on the computer with his teal blue eyes narrowed and squinting.

"That's... that's very possible, Tucker. I can't think of any other things... so we'll go with that until we find more information," she said softly, "we can always ask Danny about it?"

"That's not a good idea. You saw how jumpy he was when you mentioned it."

"True," Sam agreed, "what about the name thing? They have the same first name."

Shrugging, Tucker spun in the office chair he was sat in. "So? Danny isn't the most uncommon name ever."

"Fine," she said, deciding not to talk about that more, "should we see what the weird sentence is?"

"Oh, yeah! I found a translator... say it into this microphone." Tucker gave her a tiny speaker-like contraption.

"Esti zorgema de la unu kiu sekvas vian reĝadon." ** _  
_**

 _Loading..._

 _Loading..._

 _Translation complete!_

"Be careful of the cow who follows your reign?" Tucker said, holding back a laugh.

Sam was about to speak, when-

"Oh! So close..." a dark, gravelly voice said behind them, before everything went black.

* * *

 **That's chapter ten!**

 **I tried to make it a good cliffhanger but ahah, nope, my brain was like "LOL I'LL MAKE EVERYONE HATE YOU FOR A BAD CHAPTER"  
But I wanted to get this up because EVERYONE KEEPS UNFOLLOWING! Yes, sorry, I don't update every day guys. This isn't pre-written and I do have a life outside of fanfiction. So if you don't enjoy it just tell me why before you go and change '100 follows' to '99 follows'! I was so hyped to get 100 follows and then that one person was like "hahaha, I hate you" and unfollowed 3;  
ANYWAY - I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT WRITING THE NEXT CHAPTER FOR SOME REASON?! Sam and Tucker were so close to getting it right xP People can seriously be dumb sometimes, can't they. I'm sorry if it didn't seem realistic, guys. Please don't get angry at me...**

 **The funny story of the chapter for ya'll:  
So I help out with my friend's mum's milkshake shop even though I can't drink milkshake (lactose intolerant *cri*). I was just making a milkshake when I over heard my friend's mum and a customer talking about a single male co-worker who hates me for some reason... [C=Customer, FM=Friend's Mum]  
C: "he's cute, what's his name?"  
FM: "Toby, but just a warning, he plays for the other team."  
C: "what team?"  
** **AND LITRALLY LIKE FIVE OTHER PEOPLE (including me) STOOD UP AND SHOUTED "WILDCATS!" SO LOUD SHE SCREAMED.  
** **(FM might have gotten it from Tumblr, IDK. But it happened and it was the best thing ever.)**

 **PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **It motivates an author to deliver a good chapter and lets them  
know their work is appriciated instead of going to waste!  
I get so happy reading them and it makes me smile so much!**

 **I'm aiming for 172 reviews, but more would be AMAZING!**

 **-Kinetic**

 **(PS: please go read my mute!Danny fanfic.  
I'm updating them in turn, like now this is updated I'm starting on the second chapter of that^)**

 **(PPS: PLEASE GO JOIN MY DANNY PHANTOM ROLEPLAY FORUM)**


	11. Chapter 11: Don't Take The Bait

_I HAD FINISHED THE CHAPTER AND THE WIFI CUT OFF. AHHHHHHHHH -Kinetic_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 11:**  
Don't Take The Bait

. . .

"Waiting...Phantom...bait..."

The voices were muffled and distant, as if the whole world had just been dunked into the ocean, but Sam Manson knew that they weren't simply a figment of her fuzzy imagination. Everything was dark, darker then it should be, and something humanly warm was pressed against her back. With a groggy, awaking groan, the gothic teenager shifted in her uncomfortable position on the floor. It felt like she had been there for a little while, maybe a few hours, though she couldn't be so sure considering she wasn't even aware of where she was or why she was there. The air smelt strongly of weedkiller and burnt ectoplasm; it was so putrid she nearly gagged. Something gesiculated against her but she kept her eyes glued shut, terrifed that whoever was there would harm her if she was seen awake. Her hands, bound together and to another pair of them, were shut tightly in a white-knuckled fist and her legs were tied together with a rope. _Why am I tied up and who to?_ she asked herself, refusing to lift her head so she looked as if she were still unconscious. For some reason, it didn't feel right to let whoever had done this know she was awake and slightly aware the situation.

There were more voices, this time clearer now she was awake. They weren't recogniseable and she could feel her stomach swelling up in terror as she realised she might have been kidnapped by a child stalker or a rapist. "Where is that darn ghost?" someone said from a few feet away from her. The speaker sounded like a girl, though the echo in her voice told Sam that she was in fact a ghost. _Unsurprisingly_ , she thought to herself, forcing herself to not roll her eyes even if they were shut. Some footsteps sounded out, followed by the tap of metal against the floor. Whatever they were doing, it didn't sound enjoyable; she really ought to open her eyes and see who she was bound to soon. There were even more footsteps, then the sound of heavy breathing right next to her ear. Instantly she tensed, hating the rotten scent that burned in her closed eyes as the owner of said breaths seemed to be getting closer. It was disgusting, that was for sure, and Sam could feel herself getting sicker by the minute at the smell. _Brush your teeth sometime_ , she thought sourly, desperate to kick out at whoever was nearby.

"Be patient, Lydia," a raspy voice said, this time so close that Sam was sure the speaker was the one stooped beside her. Within a moment he continued, but seemed to be a fraction further away then before, "my minion has been seen conversing with these two... _children_." A chuckle rang out within the room, sounding unforgiving and impossibly cold. There was no echo in his voice, telling Sam that the other speaker wasn't a ghost. Humans and ghosts working together to kidnap some teenagers? That was certainly behaviour one wouldn't see, even in strange old Amity Park. Apparantly the person she was attached to was her age - it was most likely Tucker, since he had been in the same room as her before everything went dark and her memories of the past few experiences faded into oblivion. Shifting silently, Sam stayed in a mock unconscious state, trying to listen in without detection. So far it was working.

"I don't want to be patient! I want that damn boy to come here so I can pound him into seventy different pieces!" the ghost squarked bitterly, her voice followed by the light sound of skin meeting skin.

"Silence, you stupid ghost! I'm not luring him here for your enjoyment! He's to be back in my control; his future self is far to powerful to control with the staff, while he is simply still breaking the shell. He has a lot of potential and I do NOT want you RUINING MY TOY FOR ME!" There was a long silence, then Sam grew far too antsy to keep in this state. Who were they talking about and why did they want to control him? What did they mean 'his future self'? The quiet was broken by the female voice; she sounded loud and angry, but didn't seem as if she wanted to win more as prove her point.

"What do you mean 'too powerful'?!" she screeched, making Sam visibly flinch, "that staff is meant to control _all_ ghosts! The boy's future self is a ghost, and a full one at that! You should be able to control him EVEN BETTER THEN YOUR MINION YOU MORON!" What did that mean; 'and a full one at that'? Raising an eyebrow unconsciously, Sam held back some sort of confused noise that she could feel forming in the back of her dry throat.

"It _can_ control all ghosts, Lydia! That's why I have it! You should be glad I've let you off it's unspeakable power you insolent piece of ectoplasmic waste; I could make you obliberate yourself in seconds if you weren't so damn useful!" the male screamed in return.

"I want to _hurt_ him! Make him pay!"

"You can for Clockwork's sake! As long as you don't paralyse him or kill him, we can do as he please..."

"Tucker," she hissed quietly through their screaming match, "Tucker, wake up!" Moving her hand slightly in the bounds she tapped what she hoped was Tucker's back, trying to wake him up so he could listen too. When he didn't wake up straight away at her touch her determination heightened; of course, she was so focused on trying to wake up her unconcious best friend that she had forgotten to keep her eyes shut. A blinding yellow light flashed in her eyes, which had been so used to the darkness behind her eyelids, and made an ache split across her temples. Why was it so unnaturally bright in here? She didn't look at the people in the screaming match nearby, instead trying to move her elbow so she could poke Tucker in the spine with it. That would have been bound to wake him up, if the shouts around her hadn't died down and two pairs of eyes hadn't started to bear into her squirming figure.

"Oooh," the male voice purred curtly, footsteps accompaning the interested noise, "I see one of our hostages has finally awoken." Making an intelliegnt 'huh?' noise, the teenager under question furrowed her brow, violet purple eyes hard and glaring at the man. There was no hair on his head, only a black top hat that failed to cover all of the ugly grey skin that covered his smirking face. Crimson red eyes unforgiving and psycotic, he stooped beside her - the cerise suit he wore on top of a white button-up shirt and black bow tie crinkled as he moved, clad over a tall, slender figure. He wore raven dress pants and polished shoes that resembled a business man's, with an odd cape to boot. In one hand he grasped a staff, a dangerous swirling gem on the end that was pointed towards her throat in a menacing manner. Of course, he wasn't the most good-looking man in the world and so badly stunk of rotting flesh that Sam nearly choked on the horrific scent. He smelt like a literal cannibal; those were the vibes she was getting from him.

But he was actually quite terrifying in his own disgusting way. Feeling herself shiver as she stared into those hungry red eyes, Sam shifted in her heavy combat boots. When she finally worked up enough courage to speak her voice came out wavering and cracking slightly under his suffocating glare. "W-what do you want with me and my friend?" she questioned, attempting to put her usual fire into her voice through to no avail. For a moment her world was engulfed in a silence, before the man threw his head back and _laughed_ at her. It sounded cold, cold enough to freeze her up in terrified bounds of bloodied ice. There was so sympathy or kindness traced onto her features, only pure evil. Afraid for her own and Tucker's safety, she wrinkled her button nose and sent him the darkest glare she could muster. The man only silenced his chortles some more, then moved to place his hand on her shaking shoulder. It never found it, though, since she was quick to pull away from his touch.

"We don't want to harm you, stupid girl," he snarled, "you're simply... bait." Feeling her hands clench even more, Sam darkened her violet glare; his bloodthirsty one only pounded hers into the ground.

"Bait? For who? Just let us go!" Her voice was hoarse and a lump was forming in her throat, though she forced back her cries. That was what he wanted, for her to show her feebleness and vunerability, wasn't it?

"I'm afraid I can't..." he began, before getting cut off by a female voice from a few feet behind him. Instantly Sam's glare snapped up towards her, violet eyes roaming over her body to take in her apperance. Obviously she was a ghost, judging by her ominous white aura, but she was one Sam had never seen before. Her skin was shaded an intense lime green and tattoos covered her legs and arms, each a different creature such as a few bats. On her mainly bald head was no hair, only four large raven spikes that resembled some sort of mohawk. She had red eyes too, only they were glowing and the hue wasn't just in her pupil's like the man's was. Apart from a skimpy black bikini thing, a pair of heeled boots and a long red cape, she wore bare minimum. It gave her a slutty kind of feel, like she was the man's sex toy. Maybe she was - the guy had that kind of air around him, she supposed.

"I can see him," she purred, "he's looking, but he doesn't know where we are."

"Of course he doesn't. He hasn't learnt to direct his ghost sense to a location yet," the man responded, standing up and moving slowly beside her, "but he will learn soon. After all, his future self can, and he's still gathering his strength in Pariah's Keep." Both were staring out of the window and their eyes were following something she was unable to see, the man's lips bent into an insane smirk and the woman's tongue running over her pearly white teeth hungrily. Whoever they were, they were hungry for the target that Sam and Tucker were bait for.

"How long will it take for him to become fully charged?" the ghost asked.

"I don't know Lydia," he answered to the woman, now dubbed as Lydia apparantly, "he's quite weak. Apparantly he plans to do something with the Ghost Zone's energy to make himself stronger but I have a feeling that won't be until he's defeated his past self." Sourly, Sam glared at the two. What were they talking about? More importantly, who were they talking about? As far as Danny had told her, the Ghost Zone was attached to the living reality plain. If the Zone was damaged, would their world take the same vandalism? All these questions were making her head ache but she was determined to find out more, so she stayed tuned into their conversation.

"Sounds like a pretty huge plan," Lydia commented, "let's see how our little minion handles this one while he's under the control of your staff. How will we get him over here, then?"

"Ghosts can smell human blood from a mile away..." he turned towards Sam, eyes gleaming visciously, "why don't we get ourselves some from the hostage who happens to be awake?"

"N-no," Sam cut in suddenly, trying to scramble away as realisation dawned upon her, "don't, please..."

"Don't you worry your sorry little ass, girl," the man growled, approaching her with a small, steel dagger grasped rightly in the hand that wasn't occupied by the strange staff, "I don't plan to deal any lasting damage on you and your friend." With that, he moved to grab her arm; she wasn't quick enough in pulling away from his touch and found her heart hammering in terror. The look in his crimson eyes was bloodthirsty and unforgivingly cold, running over her arm as if trying to decide where he should leave a mark. After a few tense minutes of him searching, he finally chose a spot in the centre of her forearm and placed the knife against it. Sam squirmed, not daring to move her arm just in case he punished her for it. The dagger was raised an inch above her skin, hovering perfectly still until it was suddenly slashed against her tender skin; pain shot through her arm and something warm clouded around the abused area. A cry escaped her dry throat but she found that it hadn't been as agonising as she thought it would be, even if the wound was still throbbing.

Glancing down, Sam took in the wound's state. It was about three inches long, running horizontally across her arm, and wasn't actually very deep. Blood dribbled out of the slice, trailing down her arm and dripping onto her light purple legging to leave red droplet stains on the thin material. To be honest it wasn't that serious of a wound, but she still didn't enjoy the throbbing pain - were arms supposed to have a pulse like that? "Stop whining," Lydia ordered sharply, "Phantom'll be here soon. Shut your trap."So Phantom was the one they were after. It made sense now the information was dawned onto her; but what was the 'future self' thing about?

With an angry growl, Sam sent the female ghost the darkest glare she could muster right now. "He won't come," she hissed, sounding bolder then she felt inside, "he's an extremely smart ghost. He'll know it's a trap and he won't come. I promise you." The man only started at her, mouth twisted into an ugly smirk and one eyebrow raised above his non-existent hairline. What was so funny to him? Was everything a joke in this guy's brain? Apparantly, yes; his psycotic attitude certainly didn't disprove that statement. Maybe Lydia had phased him out a mental assylum, because it sure seemed like it. From what she had gathered so far, he saw the world as a circus and he was the all mighty ringmaster of it. A glutton of controlling, addicted to power and getting whatever he wants. Something told her that this guy could harm her, and badly too. Dangerous and easily insane, just like a lot of people these days.

"I know he's smart," the man growled angrily, "but you don't appear to be. His hero complex is a mistake that I want to change. It weakens him; he's powerful, yes, but not powerful enough to evade the control I'll have over him with my staff or smart enough to realise this is a trap. He's already having trouble figuring out that I was controlling Ember to 'warn' him into terror. He sure seemed terrified to me; music in my eyes, his anxiousness."

"You sound like Spectra," Lydia remarked from the window, earning a sharp glare from the power-happy man.

"He will defeat you," Sam snarled in a sudden rush of confidence, "I haven't known him long, sure, but he's a good ghost that only has intentions to protect."

" _EXACTLY_!" the man barked in response, "that is why _you_ are my bait! He'll come here, fall under my control and I'll tell him to kill your unconcious little friend over there just to prove a point. Oh, how I love watching a ghost obliberate someone else."

"Don't you dare touch him," Sam threatened darkly, pressing closer against Tucker's back in a protective manner.

"Oooh, the little girl is suddenly going to be the hero?" the man chuckled mockingly, "I don't believe we've formally met yet. My name is Freakshow, the ringmaster of Circus Gothica. That's Lydia, one of my favourite minions." The book she had read however long ago about halfas - that mentioned Freakshow and his 'Crystal Ball Staff' didn't it? With a low hiss of disapproval, Sam shifted in her bounds. This guy, the one who had captured her and her best friend, was apparantly planning to lure Phantom over to the library (that was where she was, judging by the strange blue carpet and stacks upon stacks of dusty books crammed into chipped mahogany bookshelves) and make him his minion because Phantom was powerful? She shook her head, refusing to introduce herself. The man's glare darkened and he opened his mouth to speak when-

"What in the Clockwork is going on here?! I smelt blood..." a familiar voice asked, sounding confused and slightly raspy. Instantly Sam's violet orbs darted up to meet bright ectoplasmic green ones hidden slightly underneath shaggy snow white hair. _It was Phantom!_ The young ghost was floating just below the ceiling, his eyes wide and body tensed up in a manner that showed he was ready to battle. A gloved fist was alight with a striking emerald flame, crackling with silver energy with the lighter white tips of the dangerous ecto-blast licking desperately at the air as if it wanted to escape. He was scanning the room with a sharp, calculating gaze, his eyes roaming over Lydia and Freakshow. They stayed on those two for a few seconds before filtering towards Sam and Tucker; he bit his lip upon seeing Sam staring up at him, hopeful for help but annoyed that he had actually showed up and taken the bait.

"Minion!" Freakshow barked violently, gaining Phantom's attention within mere seconds, "you've taken my bait, I see." The younger ghost's inquisitve green eyes glanced briefly at the crystal ball staff as it was raised, then clamped a gloved hand over his line of vision. This made Sam tense up a little; how would he be able to battle if he couldn't see?

"No shit Sherlock," Phantom snorted in a comical tone, using his free hand to collect some sort of green ghostly energy that didn't really have the solid properties of an ecto-blast, "why don't you, uh, let those kids - t-that I've never seen before - go free, and we can brawl it out...?" The energy morphed into emerald smoke that was centered in the palm of his gloved hand, then gradually stretched out into the shape of some sort of blindfold-y type of thing. Sudden realisating hit Sam like a train; he was going to blindfold himself so he couldn't be under Freakshow's control. Maybe the staff was based more on sight rather than the mind like she had thought, for example if Phantom were to look at it fully he would fall under the command of Freakshow. It was rather smart, but how would he be able see? The ghost ducked his head down towards to his feet before quickly tying the blindfold over his eyes, still tensed up in a battle-ready stance.

"Hmm, I suppose I have no use for them anymore... but I don't want them to report me to the Fentons." Freakshow glanced over where an unconscious Tucker and a nervous Sam wwere bound together, crimson eyes shining coldly. "I'll let them watch as you fall under my control. _Then_ I'll let them go... probably." Remembering what he had said he's make Phantom to do Tucker, the gothic teenager seethed and shifted angrily in her bounded spot on the floor. Phantom was staring directly at Freakshow despite not being able to see, which appeared to confuse the man under his eyes since he raised his eyebrow in a way that beamed puzzlement. "Can you even see me?" he asked, voice slightly humoured. The ghost under question only chuckled and lifted a hand to brush his

"No," Phantom responded sheepishly, "not out of my eyes anyway. I was kind of planning to wing it. But," he suddenly paused, then sniffed the air - his head turned directly towards an anxious Sam, "I need your help. Can you tell me where to shoot-"

"LYDIA!" Freakshow squealed childishly, cutting Phantom off (which _obviously_ offended him because he placed a hand over his heart in a mocking manner), "GET THAT BLINDFOLD OFF MY MINION RIGHT NOW!"

Within seconds, the female ghost raised herself into the air and shot towards Phantom as fast a literal bullet. "H-Hey," the younger ghost's voice wavered in slight fear as he called Sam's attention, "Sa- I mean girl, where should I shoot?" Lydia was already on him though, grabbing his neck with brute force and yanking the ghost closer to her. Upon instinct, Phantom's right hand lit up with dangerous ghostly energy and he landed a heavy blow on her cheek, knocking her into the wall closest to him. The spirit spun in a full circle as he tried to find where she was located at, his mouth slightly open and one hand holding his windpipe. When said hand moved Sam noticed a light purple bruise on the pale skin, stretching from the centre of his throat to where Lydia's thumb had pressed into the bottom of his sharp jawline. It didn't look at all severe and it already looked to be healing over, but Sam was still worried for the ghost's safety. Something about him drew her closer, as if she knew him like a friend.

"Phantom, to your left!" she yelled, seeing Lyida flying towards him in a mad rage. At the sound of Sam's shouting voice, Phantom lit his fist up with an ecto-blast again and he automatically swung it around, slamming right into the base of her throat with such force that even her cry of pain was stifled. The ghost cringed, looking slightly awkward while suspended in the air.

"I feel so bad," he commented quietly, "even though I hate her guts." This made Sam laugh and she offered him a sympathetic smile, which was returned with a strangely familiar lopsided grin. Where had she seen that smile before?

"I don't have any guts, boy!" Lydia hissed, going for Phantom from behind, but the ghost under her attack obviously heard the direction of her voice and sent a glowing green fist right into her stomach. The blow wasn't enough to distract her and she took Phantom's small stutter to her advantage, grabbing onto his leg and throwing him violently into the floor. A cry rang out through library and Sam's gasp of shock hitched in the back of her dry throat. The tattoos that littered Lydia's glowing green body shifted before flying _off_ her skin, the only ones who seemed to be doing something productive being the larger bats. They hooked their little bat claws onto the blindfold and despite Phantom's desperate squirming they easily yanked the material off, the blindfold dissapating as soon as it lost physical contact with its undead creator.

Freakshow was grinning insanely as Lydia forced Phantom's hands behind his back, the teenage ghost breathing ( _ghosts breath?_ ) heavily out of exhaustion. "Look at the staff, boy," the man snarled darkly, "or you'll regret it."

Boldy, Phantom kept his eyes on the ground beneath him. "No."

"Lydia," Freakshow ordered, his tone softer towards the ghost under question, "get the blood blossoms. They won't hurt you - as long as you submit to the staff they won't, anyway." Nodding, Lydia's hand moved for a small red flower on the computer desk that Sam hadn't noticed before now. It looked like a beautiful rose, with violent purple stalks that had a few thorns spiking off from it. What would that do to a ghost? Carefully she placed it underneath Phantom, angrily jerking his hands back as he began to shift; his lips tore open and a scream of agony came out from his throat, his entire body tensing and a deadly red smoke trailing off his build. Feeling useless, Sam attempted to break out of her bounds, though to no avail. How was Tucker still unconscious?

"Submit, ghost boy, and the pain will stop," Lydia growled into his ear, crimson eyes dark in fury.

"N-nev-never," he stuttered through the screams, his fists clenched and eyes squeezed shut.

"Come on," Freakshow purred, still laughing over Phantom's pain, "or I'll add another ghost blossom."

"N-no! D-do-d-don't..."

"Alright then," Lydia smirked, one hand moving up to his lowered chin, "we'll just force you." Her fingers lit up with a dangerous ecto-blast and Phantom screamed even louder, the pain so great that his eyes snapped open. Freakshow raised his staff even higher, so it was located right in front of Phantom's line of vision. _No!_ Sam desperately rammed her elbow into Tucker's back, not caring if it hurt him right now.

Within a moment, ectoplasmic green morphed into crimson red.

* * *

 **That's the end of chapter eleven, people!**

 **Did I do good? I dunno about this chapter. I kind of liked it. I'm sorry my cliffhanger was so shitty... buttttttt I have found myself addicted to a new song x_x it's called 'Doctor' by Truslow. Also I like 'Moving On' by Truslow (I was listening to both on repeat while writing this...) THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF THE SUPPORT ON THIS FANFICTION! Next I'm updating Silence is a Burden, then this, then that story... that's my routine right now.**

 **The funny story of the chapter... hmm...  
I remember the time when we played Quidditch in P.E. Basically we found like 50 brooms in a cupboard and instead of playing rugby we took the brooms out onto the field and played a game of Quidditch. My teacher was like "what the fuck" and there were visitors with their kids watching us scream "GET THE GOLDEN SNITCH" and run around on a broom. Bantz. XD**

 **Please Review!  
It motivates an author to make a super good chapter and makes them smile! I read them and I nearly cry from the support, that's not a lie!  
I'm aiming for...**

 _ **183 REVIEWS**_

 **But more would make me REALLY HAPPY!**

 **Happy reading folks,  
-Kinetic**


	12. Chapter 12: Curious Escapees

_I'm back, guys. I guess I wasn't gone for that long... your support me smile so much and you have no idea how much I just want to hug you. You're such freakin' amazing readers and I love you all so so much. I honestly couldn't stop smiling after reading some of your reviews because I suddenly realised that I've got so much. I guess mental breakdowns make you forget that, huh. Over 20 of you guys reviewed, telling me everything was going to be okay (and some of you put some song suggestions to make me feel happier, which made me laugh). You're all precious to me. Thank you so much for being there for me -hugzz- -Kinetic  
_

 _PS: I know I was supposed to update 'Silence is a Burden' now but I just couldn't wait to write this! I hope you like this chappie guys -Kinetic_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 11:**  
Curious Escapees

. . .

A lot of things confused Sam Manson. These things could easily include academic subjects such as math, because she couldn't work out algebra and fractions for the life of her (but seriously, who can?). Other things that puzzled her quite possibly could consist of people who bullied others for no apparant reason, or why some of her classmates made fun of her just because she liked wearing the colours black and purple. Even a lot of people were a complete dilemma to her, the biggest enigma being the one and only Danny Fenton. Then there was the fact that Tucker loved to eat meat like the savage carnivore he was, because it tasted 'nice'. Seriously, does he ever think about the fact that the roast steak on his plate used to be a living, breathing creature that actually had feelings and emotions? To be honest, she couldn't see why he keeps on saying that it's helping the cattle economy either. Just because it gave cattle a 'purpose' instead of just becoming wasted money doesn't mean that people should slaughter them for their body beef, because that's just plain disgusting. Imagine if you were killed for your shoulder meat while you were just enjoying your life out on the fields? Criminal.

But there were also things she understood, such as a lot of areas in their geography lessons. Rivers, volcanoes and earthquakes weren't exactly difficult to figure out, considering that earthquakes are quite literally occurances when two blocks of land slip roughly by each other. That isn't rocket science, is it? There was also the fact that she perfectly understood why the first and second world war happened, or why planes get that uncomfortable turbulance while in the air. Jetlag, the human body, how to be goth; those were all things she could decipher in minutes, while Tucker had trouble understanding that volcanoes are, in reality, oversized vents in the ground that molten rock - known more commonly as 'lava' or 'magma' - spurts out of at unbeatable speeds. Of course, _ghosts_ weren't so easy, but it wasn't difficult to know that they are the spirits of someone who has passed away mixed in with a hefty amount of ectoplasmic radiation. Science was actually pretty easy in most areas for her, but there was one thing that was just bugging her far too much. No matter how much she thought about it, she couldn't figure out the science behind Freakshow's crystal ball staff.

It had a dull silvery brown handle, thick and steel though appearing lightweight in the hands of the demented circus ringmaster that was cackling in front of her. On the top end of it there was a curious bat-shaped emblem, glowering green slits matching the bright colour of pure ectoplasm and splayed wings tinged a light bloodied red; it reminded Sam of Lydia, Freakshow's apparant partner in crime. Maybe it was because the bats tattooed on her body were the exact shape of the heraldic on the staff. But, on top of the bat's tiny little head, was what seemed to be the main part of the entire crook. A large, rounded crystal ball was balanced on the perch, almost looking unstable in the delicate position. It swirled with dangerous blood-red energy, looking a little like a portal to Hell compacted into the sphere. While it was a rather interesting piece of technology (was that what it was?), Sam could see that it was clearly doing something to Phantom, who was stood unmovingly in front of a laughing Freakshow. The young ghost was still, his eyes blank and his expression dark. Instead of his usual humane tinge that coated him, he looked paler and more ghostly then ever. What scared Sam the most that instead of a lively ectoplasmic green, his eyes were a dark red and were so blood-lusted that she was sure he wasn't the same ghost.

Whatever the staff was doing to him, it couldn't be good.

Was it controlling him like she had originally thought? Was it harming him at all or was it completely painless? It sure did seem like it had him under control, considering that the staff's Satanic crystal ball was swirling faster then an actual whirlpool the more Phantom continued to act so nerve-wrackingly strange. A gruff voice cut her out of her anxious thoughts, even though it wasn't directed towards her more to the empty-eyed yonng ghost that was still unmoving. "Yes!" Freakshow cackled triumphantly, waving his arms up through the thick air with uncontrollable **(A/N: badom-tss)** excitement, "my minion is back in my control! Now we'll have a shot at _taking over the world_ , Lydia!" The female ghost beside him didn't look as happy as he did, but she was still grinning with a maniac eagerness. Her demonic expression set shivers down Sam's back, her violet eyes widening as she watched her stalk towards Phantom. What were they going to do with him?

"He's perfect," Lydia purred curtly, running a finger tenderly across his boyish jawline, "your perfect toy, Master. We can make him do whatever we like..." Suddenly Freakshow snapped, jerking his staff at Lydia with greed in his eyes.

"Yes, Lyida," Freakshow snickered, "he's fantastic, isn't he?"

"We can... hurt him? However and whenever we like?" the female ghost tried, her tone portraying very faint anxiousness as if afraid of his response.

"NO! He's mine, and mine only. You keep your dirty hands off from harming him, minion," he growled protectively, the evil tone of his voice making Lydia back away from the younger ghost under question.

"But you said-"

"I lied, then! Jesus Christ minion, leave the Hell off!" he hissed, eyeing down the ghost with a barbaric stretching his thin, ugly lips.

For a moment, the air was thickly tense with sick anticipation, before Freakshow shifted and looked down at his staff wth a morbid expression. "He's..." the ringmaster began quietly, then trailed off with absolute shock, "he's... he's trying to break out of my control."

"What?" Lydia demanded without hesitation, eyes flickering hungrily towards the staff. The hand that Freakshow had the staff grasped in was quivering, his fingers loosening their way out from his once-tight grip so discreetly it couldn't have made a difference.

"Lydia, he's going to break out. It's working, too." As it to confirm this, the crook he held violently shook before the orb flashed with scilliating colour. The ugly man glanced up at Phantom, his grip on the staff tightening again and once-fierce expression wavering. "Look at his eyes," he whispered, voice hoarse with clear shock. Sam's eyes were already on the ghost, mouth slack with surprise and fists clenched from determination.

Indeed, Phantom didn't look as emotionless as he did before; his lips were twitching very slightly, his pale cheeks tinged with a light splash of its original colouring. Then Sam noticed his eyes, which were flickering constantly between dark crimson and actively sentient ectoplasmic green. The gloved fists that had once been hanging loosely by his side were clenched into angry balls, as if preparing to punch someone. "Come on," she mumbled to herself, "you can break out of it..." As if hearing her desperate urge, Phantom's eyes flashed flat-out into the usual greeny colour and his head moved very slightly towards her... until they switched back to the same demonic red they had been a few minutes before. This flipped the panic switch in Sam's mind and she jerked forward violently, her violet eyes wide in terror of Phantom failing her. "NO!" the teenager screamed, forgetting that her and Tucker's (why hasn't he woken up yet?) life was on the line depending on her behaviour, "Phantom, _FIGHT IT!_ " Her voice was high-pitched and hoarse with desperation, her fear showing through like she was transparant.

"Give it up, girl," Freakshow snarled through his ugly yellow teeth, "he's under my control now. He won't be able to break out like he did last time..." The teenager's glare was dark as she stared at the scene laying out in front of where she was bound tightly to the floor. Without a second thought, the man stalked towards Phantom, raising his free hand up the teenage ghost's motionless face and running it down his pale cheek. The spirit didn't even so much as twitch under his touch but his crimson eyes flashed green, the break in the red being so brief that neither Freakshow nor Lydia noticed it. "He's perfection," the man purred, curling his index finger and placing it under Phantom's chin; he tilted his head up slightly, staring directly into the ghost's lifeless red eyes.

"Last time?" Sam questioned curiously, one eyebrow raising.

"Yes," Freakshow snapped shortly, "last time, the little squirt managed to escape after I forced him to try and kill his best friend. Unfortunately, he broke out just before I managed to get him to drive that god damn knife through his worthless head! How unconvinient for me." At this, Sam could feel a protective snarl bubble up in her throat, her bounded wrists clenching into white-fisted balls of rage. Even Lydia, from behind Freakshow, bit her lip and directed her gaze to her feet, looking completely out of place now her expression had softed slightly. Out of the corner of her eye Sam barely even noticed Phantom's eyes flash green again, though they were flared with anger instead of having that desperate feel to them. Could he hear them speaking?

"You sick bastard!" she shouted angrily, "I'm glad he got out of your control!"

Sighing deeply, Freakshow stooped towards her hunched-over form. "I'm not," he countered in a harsh whisper.

"How did he get out?" Lydia mumbled, self-consciously floating a few feet off the ground as Sam had noticed most ghosts did quite often. Perhaps it was a spectral habit.

"He's powerful," Freakshow growled, standing up straighter and casting a glare at a motionless Phantom, "too powerful. _That_ is how he broke out. But, now my staff is upgraded, he'll stay under my control forever."

"He'll break through," Sam hissed confidently, suddenly unaware of how Tucker's life was currently depending upon her shoulders, "you said it yourself; he's a powerful ghost." The man only threw his head back in laughter, the hand that was once on Phantom's chin being placed on his stomach as if to hold in its contents. Darkening her glare, Sam shifted in her bounds. What was wrong with this sick bastard? Why was he so interested in having Phantom under his cruel control? "You sick bastard," she spat as soon as he steadied his witch-like cackle, realisation dawning gradually over her aching mind, "you're going to hurt him, aren't you?" _That was a stupid question,_ her mind offered helpfully, _of course he's going to hurt him! Does that worthless dude who looks like he's spent years high on crack look like someone who would be gentle to Phantom?! I think not!_ Frowning at her thoughts, Sam wondered whether there was actually another person in her mind (and whether she was Russian, because the voice had that sort of awesome accent).

With a slight smirk, Freakshow ran his free hand over his own chin, greedy cerise eyes thoughtful as he combed the accusation over in his mind. "It depends," he said simply, "it depends whether he decides to behave or not. If so, then he won't even feel anything. If he does misbehave, then I'll be sure to make sure he knows not to do it again." He snarled the last few words, tongue running over his yellowing teeth in cruel anticipation. The young ghost's eyes flashed again and Freakshow looked down at his staff, which's orb was glowing so bright it had to be doing something that was off. Judging by Freakshow's shocked expression, the staff wasn't meant to be doing that - right now, that was a positive thing, wasn't it? "He's trying to break out again, Lydia! We have to go, before he breaks out completely. Come on, take the girl and boy with us; may as well, right? Knock the girl out for me."

Suddenly, as if a switch had flicked on inside of Phantom's brain, ectoplasmic green bled into his darkened crimson irises and his gloved fists jerked violently towards Freakshow's temple; they hit the target dead-on and the ugly man cried out at the sudden blow. "WHAT?!" Freakshow yelped, stumbling away in absolute shock, "HOW DID HE GET OUT?! GET THE GIRL AND GO, LYDIA!" At this, Phantom's eyes flared with unmistakeable anger and he darted forwards at the speed of light, ripping the staff out of Freakshow's now-loosened grasp. There was no sound coming out of him, only the expression of complete hatred as he ripped the red crystal ball off the rendered-useless staff. That look morphed into smugness and he floated up, holding the ball in his gloved hand. It was obvious he was trying not to look directly at it, his green eyes hardened and focused straight on the thunderbolted Freakshow and Lydia.

"Hey Freaky," Phantom purred nonchalantly, "how're you doin'?"

"GIVE ME BACK MY CRYSTAL BALL, MINION!"

"Hey, hey. Control yourself, Old-And-Fishy," the younger ghost suddenly laughed, "wow, I'm so _punny_. See what I did there?" Laughing at his charming antics, Sam happily returned the easygoing grin that Phantom shot at her as soon as he finished his brash remark.

"Minion!" Freakshow barked, now looking at Lydia's gawking face, "get him back into my control!"

"How should I d-"

"Do whatever you need; beat him, traumatize him, whatever! JUST DO IT!" the man ordered sharply, his tone unforgiving and cold.

"Umm, no thank you," Phantom commented shortly, raising an eyebrow at the still unmoving Lydia, "I'm gonna go now. Come on, Sa- I mean, uh, girl I've actually never met before. I'll bring you and Tuck- I mean, I'll bring you and that boy I've actually never met before with me." The ghost wrinkled his (familiar?) button nose before glancing awkwardly at the crystal ball in his hand, as if not knowing what to do with it. After a moment of consideration, he raised the hand that was carrying it and threw the glowing sphere at the ground, watching smugly as it shattered across the ground into millions of tiny pieces. A dangerous red whisp of smoke trailed off from its smashed remains, descreetly disappearing into Freakshow's widened crimson eyes and causing them to flare slightly. It was as if the power in the crystal ball had returned to its master... hopefully, that wasn't the case; anyone with that power was someone to be feared, and Sam didn't want to fear anyone right now.

"N-no!" Freakshow barked, looking at a motionless Lydia, "get him, you worthless ectoplasmic pile of scum!" Swooping towards her shocked form, Phantom offered Sam a comforting grin. A gloved hand moved towards her shoulder, the other placing itself onto Tucker's slumped shoulder. For some reason, being around him felt natural; like they had been together this close before now. Not an ounce of fear was found in her mind and she returned his lopsided smile, only nodding when he stooped to say something into her ear. His voice was calming, relaxing... _familiar._..

"Come on," he whispered, "let's go." And with that, he phased them right through the floor.

Both of the teenagers - the ones that were awake, that was - failed to hear Freakshow hiss, "don't worry, I have a ton more of those crystal balls at the base..."

. . .

It felt strange; to feel your limps go completely numb, unmoving as your brain tried to tell them how to do different things like it usually did. You could still see what was going on around you, you could still conjure up thoughts about the current situation. You could still hear everything as clear as daylight, you were just unable to relay your opinions about it. Being unable to move was an odd feeling, like being paralysed across your entire body. But Danny, he had experienced it once before. The first time Freakshow had come into town with the rest of that annoying Circus Gothica squad (he felt like they would be a squad...), he had been a fool and fallen underneath Freakshow's insane control. It wasn't a nice feeling, to have your freedom constricted by a red whirlpool contained into a large ball on the end of Batman's verson of Gandelf's crooked staff. But now, now he was free, he could feel himself again. He could feel his arms, legs, torso, everything. The thoughts in his head became clearer and he had found he had control over what she said and what he didn't. What a nice feeling.

"Phantom," a female voice hissed from beside him, "mind untying me?"

With a curious expression, Phantom glanced down at Sam's hunched over figure. "Oh yeah. Sorry," he responded sheepishly, stooping down and nonchalantly phasing the tight bounds off Sam and Tucker's wrist. Somehow, Tucker was still deeply unconscious, but Danny knew he was perfectly healthy. Something told him that the techno-geek was just happy dozing it off while he had the chance. Right now, they were in the sewers; it was vast and stunk strongly of fish, the dark green brick walls tinged with something that he wasn't so interested in touching. It looked like the classic movie set, if he were to be honest. Wide and shaped as a huge arch, tunneling around corners that he didn't feel like going around. In between two broad raised ledges was a river of ugly brown-and- _what-the-fuck-is-that-pink-stuff-over-there_ sewege, with only a few chipped wooden bridges that you could use to cross from one squared overhang to the other. It reminded Danny of the movie Spiderman, when he was in the sewer trying to find The Lizard with the webs; it actually looked a lot like that scene, rather scarily.

"Phantom," Sam questioned as she stood up, stretching her back like an elegant cat, "are you okay? Did the staff hurt you?" At this, the halfa couldn't help but smile. She and her best friend had just been kidnapped by a sick freak such as Freakshow and she was asking whether he was alright? It sounded like he was speaking to a mirror, but a gender-bending one of course.

"No, no it didn't. More importantly; are _you_ okay?" He looked at her softly, running a hand through his muddled snowy white hair.

"I'm fine, he only gave me a cut," she lowered her voice to a whisper, motioning to her quivering arm. A long, red wound ran down her forearm, droplets of crimson blood dribbling out of the clean gash. With a gasp, Danny placed a hand over the abused area, his touch tender as she winced at the pain. The hybrid looked up at her through his colourless bangs, offering her a friendly smile when she stared right back. Oh, her eyes were beautiful; a humane pale purple, with streaks of darker hues striped within her irises like zebra markings. Were they natural or were they contact lenses?

"Leave it to me," he cooed, reaching right into himself to find an ability he had recently learnt. Within moments, the hand over the wound glowed a soft, comforting blue, hued the colour of gentle ice. It looked relaxing and Danny was relieved to notice that Sam wasn't tensed whatsoever, her violet eyes soft as she watched him work. The gentle pale blue flame flickered across the wound, wrapping around her arm. For a moment it flickered silver, before suddenly flaring up to a few feet high. Sam gasped in complete and utter awe, the violet splashes in her eyes lit up with the angelic blue glow. Chuckling, Danny allowed the gentle ice flame to disperse off the teenager's skin. It stuck around in his gloved palms for a few seconds before dying down into nothing but a whisp of blue smoke, and when Danny glanced down at where the wound was once on Sam's arm he noticed that all that remained was a scar. White and thin, barely even visible; he abruptly switched off his ghost-enhanced vision and looked down, hiding as his eyes morphed into his mismatched icy blue and ectoplasmic green. Without his sensitive eyesight he was unable to even see the scar, but with it he was able to see the thin white line clear as day.

Quickly he switched back to his ghostly vision, allowing more ectoplasm then usual to bleed into his eyes. With more energy they glowed like a dull lightbulb, lightly sprinkling the area just a few inches in front of his eyes with a delicate green light. "Wow," Sam gasped breathlessly, marvelling at the scar she was unable to see, "that's like, a h-healing ability, right?"

"Yeah," Danny responded nonchalantly, "learnt it a few months ago. I thought you'd appriciate it."

"No one would be suspiscious," she insisted with a shaky sigh, "I could just say that I ran into a tree."

"And the tree would give you a perfect cut like that?" he countered smoothly, shooting her a charmingly lopsided smile.

At this, Sam only chuckled. "No, I suppose not." There was silence between the two, one that felt slightly awkward in Danny's eyes, but then Sam broke it with another question. "When you said that you learnt that healing ability a few months ago... ghosts don't get all of their powers at once?"

Danny shook his head at the inquiry, running a habitual hand through his tousled white locks. "No. I mean, we get flight, invisiblity, ecto-blasts... stuff like that. That's the general stuff we get. But later on you learn the cool stuff."

"Oooh!" Sam sat forwards, smiling that _stupid stunning smile_ , "what have you unlocked? Wait, that sounds weird..."

Laughing, the halfa self-consciously floated off the ledge and over the running sewege current. It wreaked in his enhanced senses, but he tried harder then ever to block it out. "No, no. It's okay. I've got healing, as you saw." He paused, having to think for a few moments before continuing. "I have an ice core, which means I have ice powers. Look," Allowing his ice core to pulse lightly beside his human heart, Danny could feel the cold energy streaking through his veins and into the palms of his hands. One hand was raised a few inches above the other and a pale blue smoke appeared in the small gap, before finally fizzling away in a small shower of quick-melting snow. What was left lying in his hand was a shard of ghost ice, shaped as a perfect diamond as if a master carver had done it. Sam gasped as he handed it to her. "It's ghost ice, which means it will never melt. Even if you put it in the sun's core."

"Wow," she gawked, "that's amazing... and I can keep this?"

"Yup." He popped the 'p' nonchalantly, beaming a small smile at her.

"What else can you do?" she asked curiously, putting the shard of ghost ice carefully into her pocket.

"I have one other thing I discovered in... _that_ experience... but I can't show you. It's too powerful. And if you're wondering what experience I'm talking about, I won't be telling you anytime soon." It occured to the hybrid that he had sounded fiercer then usual, but right now he couldn't care less. To be honest, he didn't think she would ask anyway.

"Fine," she responded huffily, "can I ask you more questions?"

"W-why?"

"I promise to you that I'm just curious, Phantom. I promise you with my life." The look in her beautiful eyes said it all; she wouldn't tell a soul. Danny didn't plan to tell her his _secret_ (besides, she had no idea what a halfa even was, right?), but he supposed a few things wouldn't hurt...

"Shoot."

The teenager was smiling even more now, violet eyes alight with excitement. "How did you die?" she asked, obviously oblivious to the fact that that was rude to ask a ghost. Almost instantly Danny grew defensive, his fists tightening and ectoplasmic green eyes flashing in anger.

"It's rude to ask a ghost that," he growled, then suddenly noticed her terrified expression that was slapped over her features - anger turned to guilt within a few mere seconds. "I-I'm sorry... but it's just normal ghost behavior to get annoyed at that question. We often can't help it..."

"I'm sorry!" she breathed desperately, "I'm sorry. I didn't know, Phantom."

"It's fine, honestly. Next question."

With a steady sigh, Sam continued. "God I feel so bad..." she mumbled, then looked at Danny's expression, "anyway... I think I should get to a question I think would be better asking you then him... well. It's hard to explain."

"Get on with it, will you?"

She sent him a withering death glare at the command. "...do you know anything about Danny Fenton's home life?"

Suddenly he spluttered, feeling a dribble of spit trickle down his chin in his shock. Wiping it away, he straightened himself up, looking at her with wide eyes. Where was this leading? Did she know about his situation between his human form and his horribly insane parents? A burst of panic splashed through his aching brain, sending the hybrid into that awfully shaky 'telling-the-teacher-he-forgot-his-homework' mode. "Um..." he started, trying not to show his terror in his voice though he was afraid he had already failed, "a bit... I know that he goes to Casper High School and that his ghost portal is the only one I ever actually go through..."

The goth was sending him a skeptical look, one eyebrow raised and her lips very slightly parted. "OK then," she remarked shortly, "anything else? Like, between his parents?"

"They like him a lot," he answered far too quickly, even though he knew inside that that wasn't true. Sam, still looking slightly suspiscious, raised a hand towards his shoulder; instantly a blinding spurt of terror flew through him and he sharply drew backwards, eyeing the hand with reflexively tense muscles. The girl only twitched before setting her hand down, smiling at him discreetly.

"Okay then... look, I need to get home. Fly me - and him - home?"

"Sure, sure."

And with that, Danny phased both awake and unconscious teenagers through the ceiling and into the icy night air.

* * *

 **Oh My God.**

 **You guys are literally the best things that have ever happened to me. When I was feeling down and depressed you guys reached out and gave me such amazing words of support. You literally have no idea how thankful I am that I didn't do anything brash or downright stupid; you guys gave me hope and made me determined to keep going. Thank you for being there for me when no one else was.**

 **Now we've done that lovey-dovey stuff, let's get on with the funny story of the chapter...  
I was riding my pony Tilly bareback in the farthest paddock away from the yard in a pink unicorn onsie (bought as a joke and kept in my tack box) with my old grey Converse on. I was doing some log jumps and then I got really bored and decided to ride backwards. I spun around when suddenly Tilly bolted forwards, spooking at a bird flying off in the distance (idiot pony). I wasn't ready but somehow I stayed on BACKWARDS on a GALLOPING pony, going down a muddy slope at full speed. I was screaming my ass of the entire time and was trying to spin around so I could calm her down...  
... and right at the same time, these people doing their Duke of Edinborough awards began setting camp up in the paddock next to the one I was screaming in.  
Cringe.**

 _ **Review Time!**_

 **Reviews really make me smile and they make an author feel like they're being loved for their work. It shows their effort is appriciated and helps us feel like that the hours of sitting on a laptop while listening to Hurricane by Truslow (my current situation) with three mugs of coffee.**

 **I'm aiming for 220 reviews!**

 **Thank you so so so much for all of your support guys...  
-Kinetic**

 **PS:  
 _PLEASE READ_** **:** I have been reading a lot of dissection fanfics lately and I really wanted to incorperate one into the storyline, since the summary does say 'blood, gore' ect. Soo.. how do ya feel about that? -Kinetic


	13. Chapter 13: Mystery Wrapped In An Enigma

_Why am I so excited to write a dissection scene in the future?! I blame insanity! -Kinetic  
(ALSO, for those of you wondering about when I'm gonna update my mute!Danny fic, I will, soon. I've got WB for that rn)._

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen:**  
Mystery Wrapped In An Enigma

. . .

Sam _knew_ why Danny Fenton had been acting so... strange.

It hadn't actually been that difficult to figure out, once she had gained enough evidence to support her theory. At first, her hypothesis had been rather far-fetched, but from newer proof bought about by her experience with Phantom she had concluded something that had been directly in front of her eyes the entire time she had known Danny for. Why she had failed to see this at first, she would never knew; after all, their last names sounded near to identical and now she had seen Phantom's face properly she could see that they looked exactly the same, save for the fact that their hair and eye colour were nearly polar opposites. Though, one of Danny's eyes - his viridescent one, that is - was the same shade of striking ectoplasmic green as both of Phantom's eyes. They had the same slightly broken but adorable tone of voice and their expressions matched one another like two fitting pieces in a jigsaw puzzle. Not to mention the fact that when Sam thought she had figured it out, she had tested her theory by reaching out and trying to touch Phantom's shoulder. As she had suspected he would, the 'ghost' had shied away from her fingers just like Danny does when someone goes to do the same to him.

With all of that proof, it wasn't difficult to figure out that Danny and Phantom were the same person. A human/ghost hybrid. A _halfa_.

And this time, she was sure that her premise was the real deal. There was nothing to disprove it, after all. Why had she missed this so many times before? It wasn't exactly unbeliveable, if she were to be honest. They _did_ have paranormal activity that was considered average nearly every day, so why should the fact that her mysterious new friend was a hybrid of two different species that lived on different reality plains be that shocking? While it surprised her, Sam couldn't really see why she should be afraid. Phantom was a good ghost, Danny was a good human being. That was probably why he had known so much about ghostly weaponry; either he used it a lot or he just learnt about it so he could disable them everytime his parents attacked his ghost half with them. Upon thinking about that prospect of this, Sam suddenly found herself wondering whether his parents knew about his alter-ego. If they did, would they attack him if he went out to stop another ghost, or would they just let him do his business and leave off? What would they do to him if they didn't know and found out...?

Then something else occured to her, something that made her want to rip apart the pillow that her head was currently resting on. At the ghost weapon showcase, they had used Phantom as a test subject for the Fenton Ecto-Gun or something insane like that. That meant that they had used _their own son_ to show everybody what the gun's effects were, didn't it? A bubble of sympathetic anger bubbled through her, though she swallowed it down hard to keep herself intact. Those cheap, sick batstards! Treating their own son like a pile of dirt just because he was a little different (well, maybe a lot different; not a lot of people walked around with an alter-ego buried in them). Maybe they should blast themselves into the ground so they could feel what he had felt that day. When she had heard Phantom - Danny - screaming in absolute agony as the emerald green energy blast engulfed his body, it had sent shivers cascading down her spines and she had to look away for a bit. But knowing that that boy was the same boy who had watched his sister getting murdered by a sick thief when he was just seven years old, she felt terrible. Though, she couldn't help but doubt that it had been a thief who had done that horrific deed. And this just egged on her theory of Danny's crappy home life and abusive situation with his parents.

If her seemingly far-fetched conclusion was all true, Danny being abused and all of that, what else could he have been through?

Staring at the ceiling of her bedroom, Sam allowed her mind to drift back to yesterday evening's experiences. Getting kidnapped had been the scariest thing she had ever been through so far and having to watch as one of the only good-natured ghosts in Amity Park was possessed by that piece of _junk_ on the end of Freakshow's staff only made her past situation worse. For a few moments, she thought about calling the police on Freakshow and Lydia; but then she remembered how powerful they had been before _Danny_ had completely overwhelmed them. The duo would probably end up shredding the coppers apart and Sam didn't exactly want a mass murder to happen, so she though she should hold off on calling them in order to avoid that. If it sounded like a cliche superhero thing in the comic books, then Sam didn't If Freakshow and/or Lydia ever do anything _too_ dangerous, such as rampage out on a homicide spree, she would, for sure, tell someone; but if that _did_ happen, someone other then just her would be bound to notice, wouldn't they? (Though, the citizens in Amity had been known for their obliviousness to crime; after all, paranormal activity _was_ considered normal here.)

With a long sigh, Sam threw her bedcovers off her legs and lugged herself onto her feet, a yawn stretching open her dry, cracked lips. Questions floated through her brain as she moved to choose her clothes for the school day; should she confront Danny about her supposed discovery? What would he say back to her? Would he get angry and hurt her if she did tell him? At the last mental inquiry she smiled to herself, knowing that there was no way in the world that Danny would ever hurt a fly. Despite him having a bit of a fierce temper with people who tipped him off the edge too much - coughDashcough - he seemed pretty docile towards people who were passive towards him as well, so she didn't find herself worried so much about getting a violent reaction from him. Again, Danny wasn't really considered to be much of a smash-mouth person.

Instead, he was quite possibly the most genuine, kindest, laid-back person she had ever met.

The teenager stared at her reflection in the mirror, studying her tired purple eyes and tangled raven locks. "Is that a pimple?" she grumbled quietly to herself, seeing the fading reddened spot located just beside her temple. Although it was barely even visible, she still wanted the blemish gone; maybe she should get her mum to get more of that stuff she ran out of earlier. The pale skin around her eyes was smudged a light purple, portraying her exhaustion. From yesterday's experiences, she hadn't managed to get much sleep, being too nervous to even close her eyes. The thoughts about one of her friends (was he considered a friend yet?) being a half-ghost, half-human hybrid had kept her up basically all throughout the night, just to add to the mixed emotions she was currently feeling. A shiver of ice crackled though her arms as her mind drifted back to the insane look in Freakshow's eyes, but she pushed it away; she had to focus on getting ready for school. Casting a look at her wall clock as she breezed past her open bedroom door with a toothbrush in her mouth and a dab of spare spot-cream on the pimple she had noticed, she noticed that she only had a few minutes before the bus came...

"Whoops," she mumbled to herself, violet eyes reading the clock uncertainly.

Within an instant the toothbrush was back in the glass pot above a random bathroom sink and the spot-cream was lazily wiped off; the teenager threw herself down her vast marble stairs, scooping up her schoolbag as she passed by it. The door to the kitchen was ignored despite her father's calls and she depserately made a beeline for the front doors, trying to catch the bus on time so she wouldn't have to get driven up to Caspar High by her parents. Her hand was just about to turn the handle when-

"Sammy-kins, honey, come and eat with us!"

A groan shook her body and Sam called out a response, rocking inpatiently on her feet. "I'll be late," she paused, turning the doorhandle as she did so, "if I come eat with you!"

Her mother's head appeared by the door and she frowned, eyes sliding unapprovingly over her outfit. "I'll just drive you," she offered while giving that same uptight smile to her daughter, who scowled darkly in response.

"I wan't to catch the bus," she urged in a growl, "I want to talk to Tucker." With a frown, Sam glanced at her wrist watch; the bus would arrive at the bus stop soon.

"Look, Sa-"

"Bye, mum"

With that, Sam yanked the door open and was down the street in a few mere seconds.

. [ _time skip to when Sam finally sits down on the bus..._ ] .

"Hey Tuck," Sam greeted warmly; the cheerful expression her African-American best friend casted her as they took their usual seats made her mentally smile. The techno-geek, throwing his bag onto the floor beside his feet, righted his wonky red beret and grinned at her again. _Well at least he's awake now_ , she thought to herself. Did he know what had happened when he finally woke up? Was he feeling alright? The urge to ask him was strong but she thought it would be best to tell him if he asked or if it came up in the conversation she was gonna put him into, though he probably wouldn't even care counting that he was a pretty laid-back guy to these kinds of things. Seriously, it was going to kill him one day. It nearly did, yesterday.

"Sam," he began awkwardly, "you look guarded. What did you discover?"

At this, the goth laughed. It felt open, freer; it felt like she hadn't done it in a long time. "I have _proof_ that Danny is... odd..." she declared in a hushed tone, still uncertain of what to call him. Strange sounded offending and different sounded like he was handicapped **(A/N: please note that I'm trying not to be rude.)**

The techno-geek furrowed his brow, shifting in his sticky bus seat with a concerned expression. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that I can't remember anything that happened last evening, after school?" he questioned curiously.

"Uh... yes," she deadpanned, then sat up straighter. "Let me tell you what I found out and why I know it has to do with Danny, okay?"

"Okay..."

"It's still a bit fuzzy because we were both unconscious-" _you were, anyway_ , she added silently, "-but I think I have enough stuff to add up. So I woke up on the floor of the library tied to you for some reason and I instantly had that instinct that said 'keep your eyes shut!'. So I did, because I've always trusted my instinct. I tried to wake you up but that gave me away, so they suddenly realised I was awake." Breaths long and shaky, Sam thought hard to try and recount what had happened, when Tucker suddenly spoke.

"We were... kidnapped?" he questioned with a raised eyebrow, sounding as if he really didn't believe her, "you say it like it's nothing. Shouldn't we tell the police or something?"

"Let me finish," she grumbled, though humor was evident in her voice, "he told me I was bait for someone, well you _and_ I were bait. Then he cut my arm... and said something about ghosts being able to smell human blood from miles away... then Phantom came."

"We were rescued by him, I'm guessing?"

"I can't... yes, we were. But not until later. Let me finish, stupid child. So one of the guys who kidnapped us held up this weird staff thing with a crystal ball on the end and started _controlling_ Phantom-"

"You're information is really bad. Just tell me in more detail, dummy. It's obvious you can remember."

"Fine." Sam gave him the most unimpressed glare she could muster, though he barely even flinched at it. "I'll give more detail, then..."

 _"Be patient, Lydia," a raspy voice said, this time so close that Sam was sure the speaker was the one stooped beside her. Within a moment he continued, but seemed to be a fraction further away then before, "my minion has been seen conversing with these two... children."_

"Children?!" Tucker protested, earning a hard glare from Sam for being disruptive.

 _"I don't want to be patient! I want that damn boy to come here so I can pound him into seventy different pieces!" the ghost squarked bitterly, her voice followed by the light sound of skin meeting skin._

 _"Silence, you stupid ghost! I'm not luring him here for your enjoyment! He's to be back in my control; his future self is far to powerful to control with the staff, while he is simply still breaking the shell. He has a lot of potential and I do NOT want you RUINING MY TOY FOR ME!" There was a long silence, then Sam grew far too antsy to keep in this state. Who were they talking about and why did they want to control him? What did they mean 'his future self'? The quiet was broken by the female voice; she sounded loud and angry, but didn't seem as if she wanted to win more as prove her point._

 _"What do you mean 'too powerful'?!" she screeched, making Sam visibly flinch, "that staff is meant to control all ghosts! The boy's future self is a ghost, and a full one at that! You should be able to control him EVEN BETTER THEN YOUR MINION YOU MORON!" What did that mean; 'and a full one at that'? Raising an eyebrow unconsciously, Sam held back some sort of confused noise that she could feel forming in the back of her dry throat._

 _"It can control all ghosts, Lydia! That's why I have it! You should be glad I've let you off it's unspeakable power you insolent piece of ectoplasmic waste; I could make you obliberate yourself in seconds if you weren't so damn useful!" the male screamed in return._

 _"I want to hurt him! Make him pay!"_

 _"You can for Clockwork's sake! As long as you don't paralyse him or kill him, we can do as he please..."_

"Ouch," Tucker cut her off again, "that sounds... off..."

"No shit, Sherlock!" Sam mock-gasped, "but they were talking about some strange stuff... I mean, what do you think they meant when they said ''the boy's future self' and 'full one at that?' They had to mean full-ghost, didn't they? And we read about what halfas were just before... half-ghost, half-human. Are they saying that the boy's future self is a full ghost while he's a half one?" Tucker was looked far too puzzled know, his shoulders jerking as the bus rumbled over a few potholes.

"I dunno... is the 'boy' Phantom by any chance?"

"It was, I think, but at that point I didn't know. And they were saying the staff controlled ghosts, too..." Sam trailed off, looking throughtfully across the bus corridor thing, "... I saw it do it. It works, Tuck. Let me say a bit more and we can pick it apart later...

 _"W-what do you want with me and my friend?" she questioned, attempting to put her usual fire into her voice through to no avail. For a moment her world was engulfed in a silence, before the man threw his head back and laughed at her. It sounded cold, cold enough to freeze her up in terrified bounds of bloodied ice. There was so sympathy or kindness traced onto her features, only pure evil. Afraid for her own and Tucker's safety, she wrinkled her button nose and sent him the darkest glare she could muster. The man only silenced his chortles some more, then moved to place his hand on her shaking shoulder. It never found it, though, since she was quick to pull away from his touch._

 _"We don't want to harm you, stupid girl," he snarled, "you're simply... bait." Feeling her hands clench even more, Sam darkened her violet glare; his bloodthirsty one only pounded hers into the ground._

 _"Bait? For who? Just let us go!" Her voice was hoarse and a lump was forming in her throat, though she forced back her cries. That was what he wanted, for her to show her feebleness and vunerability, wasn't it?_

 _"I'm afraid I can't..." he began, before getting cut off by a female voice from a few feet behind him. Instantly Sam's glare snapped up towards her, violet eyes roaming over her body to take in her apperance. Obviously she was a ghost, judging by her ominous white aura, but she was one Sam had never seen before. Her skin was shaded an intense lime green and tattoos covered her legs and arms, each a different creature such as a few bats. On her mainly bald head was no hair, only four large raven spikes that resembled some sort of mohawk. She had red eyes too, only they were glowing and the hue wasn't just in her pupil's like the man's was. Apart from a skimpy black bikini thing, a pair of heeled boots and a long red cape, she wore bare minimum. It gave her a slutty kind of feel, like she was the man's sex toy. Maybe she was - the guy had that kind of air around him, she supposed._

 _"I can see him," she purred, "he's looking, but he doesn't know where we are."_

 _"Of course he doesn't. He hasn't learnt to direct his ghost sense to a location yet," the man responded, standing up and moving slowly beside her, "but he will learn soon. After all, his future self can, and he's still gathering his strength in Pariah's Keep." Both were staring out of the window and their eyes were following something she was unable to see, the man's lips bent into an insane smirk and the woman's tongue running over her pearly white teeth hungrily. Whoever they were, they were hungry for the target that Sam and Tucker were bait for._

 _"How long will it take for him to become fully charged?" the ghost asked._

 _"I don't know Lydia," he answered to the woman, now dubbed as Lydia apparantly, "he's quite weak. Apparantly he plans to do something with the Ghost Zone's energy to make himself stronger but I have a feeling that won't be until he's defeated his past self." Sourly, Sam glared at the two. What were they talking about? More importantly, who were they talking about? As far as Danny had told her, the Ghost Zone was attached to the living reality plain. If the Zone was damaged, would their world take the same vandalism? All these questions were making her head ache but she was determined to find out more, so she stayed tuned into their conversation._

 _"Sounds like a pretty huge plan," Lydia commented, "let's see how our little minion handles this one while he's under the control of your staff. How will we get him over here, then?"_

 _"Ghosts can smell human blood from a mile away..." he turned towards Sam, eyes gleaming visciously, "why don't we get ourselves some from the hostage who happens to be awake?"_

"Did he hurt you?" Tucker demanded suddenly, teal blue eyes worried and panicked for his best friend. At this, Sam could only chuckle. It was adorable how protective he could be over her sometimes.

The girl paused, looking at the spot where a wound had once stretched across her skin. As she did so, a shiver passed through her, as if it were a reminder of the ice-cold energy Phantom - _Danny_ \- had used to heal it. "Only a cut on my arm, but Phantom healed it once he got us out of there. Don't worry, Tuck. I'm alright," she assured him warmly, giving him a smile, "buut onto the more important things, what do you think they were talking about? Charging in Pariah's Keep, where ever that is? Ghost Zone's energy?"

"I don't know..." Tucker sighed, still looking at her with an intense worry, "tell me some more and maybe we'll understand."

 _"What in the Clockwork is going on here?! I smelt blood..." a familiar voice asked, sounding confused and slightly raspy. Instantly Sam's violet orbs darted up to meet bright ectoplasmic green ones hidden slightly underneath shaggy snow white hair. It was Phantom! The young ghost was floating just below the ceiling, his eyes wide and body tensed up in a manner that showed he was ready to battle._

 _Minion!" Freakshow barked violently, gaining Phantom's attention within mere seconds, "you've taken my bait, I see." The younger ghost's inquisitve green eyes glanced briefly at the crystal ball staff as it was raised, then clamped a gloved hand over his line of vision. This made Sam tense up a little; how would he be able to battle if he couldn't see?_

 _"No shit Sherlock," Phantom snorted in a comical tone, using his free hand to collect some sort of green ghostly energy that didn't really have the solid properties of an ecto-blast, "why don't you, uh, let those kids - t-that I've never seen before - go free, and we can brawl it out...?" The energy morphed into emerald smoke that was centered in the palm of his gloved hand, then gradually stretched out into the shape of some sort of blindfold-y type of thing._

"I don't want to tell you about the entire fight scene because it makes my head hurt to think about it but when they finally got Phantom down, the guy - their names were Freakshow and Lydia by the way - got Phantom under control with his staff thing. If you want to know what it looked like, it was red with a bat on the end, with a weird crystal ball on the end of the bat. It was really weird; it looked like a portal to Hell itself had been encased into a red glass ball. But I think the swirly part in the crystal ball was the part that controlled Phantom," Sam explained with a levelled voice, thinking back to the staff's apperance with a thoughtful expression.

"What was the blindfold for?" Tucker asked, his tone interested, "wouldn't he be unable to see?"

"I think the staff was based on sight, like, when he looks at the crystal ball he falls under the user's control. That's what I was thinking at the time." With an unknowing shrug, Sam coughed into her elbow - she thought about what she should say next. They were going to arrive at school within about ten minutes judging that they were already halfway through the main town area and Sam wanted to get everything to Tucker's knowing so he knew about her suspisions. "Look, I gotta cut a bunch of useless shit out, but I should get to the bit that has something to do with Danny..."

 _"Leave it to me," he cooed. Within moments, the hand over the wound glowed a soft, comforting blue, hued the colour of gentle ice. It looked relaxing and Phantom seemed relieved to notice that Sam hadn't tensed whatsoever, her violet eyes soft as she watched him work. The gentle pale blue flame flickered across the wound, wrapping around her arm. For a moment it flickered silver, before suddenly flaring up to a few feet high. Sam gasped in complete and utter awe, the violet splashes in her eyes lit up with the angelic blue glow. Chuckling, Phantom allowed the gentle ice flame to disperse off the teenager's skin. It stuck around in his gloved palms for a few seconds before dying down into nothing but a whisp of blue smoke, and when Phantom glanced down at where the wound was once on Sam's arm he noticed that all that remained was a scar._

"Healing abilities? Nice," Tucker commented.

"The strangest thing was, I didn't even feel scared. He makes me feel so relaxed, even if he is a ghost... half of one, anyway..."

"What?"

"Let me finish..."

 _"How did you die?" she asked. Almost instantly Phantom grew defensive, his fists tightening and ectoplasmic green eyes flashing in anger._

 _"It's rude to ask a ghost that," he growled, then suddenly noticed her terrified expression that was slapped over her features. "I-I'm sorry... but it's just normal ghost behavior to get annoyed at that question. We often can't help it..."_

 _"I'm sorry!" she breathed desperately, "I'm sorry. I didn't know, Phantom."_

 _"It's fine, honestly. Next question."_

 _With a steady sigh, Sam continued. "God I feel so bad..." she mumbled, then looked at Phantom's expression, "anyway... I think I should get to a question I think would be better asking you then him... well. It's hard to explain."_

 _"Get on with it, will you?"_

 _She sent him a withering death glare at the command. "...do you know anything about Danny Fenton's home life?"_

 _Suddenly he spluttered, feeling a dribble of spit trickle down his chin in his shock. Wiping it away, he straightened himself up, looking at her with wide eyes. "Um..." he started, trying not to show his terror in his voice though he was afraid he had already failed, "a bit... I know that he goes to Casper High School and that his ghost portal is the only one I ever actually go through..."_

"Sam! You knew that asking ghosts how they died was rude!" Tucker scolded, the humor evident in his voice. Sam only rolled her eyes at his childish behvaiour.

"Well, I forgot. But when I mentioned Danny, he went all tense and shit. Like he was hiding something..." she told him simply, lifting her shoulders up in an over-exaggerated shrug. "I could just be over-worrying, but I suppose that I should finish before I think about that." With that, Tucker visibly brightened.

"Oh! I know, I know!" the techno-geek squeaked excitedly, "Danny and Phantom are secret lovers and-"

 _Sam, still looking slightly suspiscious, raised a hand towards his shoulder; instantly a blinding spurt of terror flew through him and he sharply drew backwards, eyeing the hand with reflexively tense muscles. The girl only twitched before setting her hand down, smiling at him discreetly._

"Does that explain a bit more, dumbass?" Sam urged, an eyebrow raised at her best friend as she shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I think I understand..." he started, his voice tender and uncertain, "that sounds awfully like what Danny does when someone goes to touch him."

"Exactly, Tuck!"

"So... what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Danny _is_ Phantom. Tucker, Danny's a halfa. His human form, Danny. His ghost form, Phantom."

Tucker cast her a thoughtful look, standing up as the bus jerked to a halt. After a few moments his teal blue eyes brightened and he said to her, "I think we've figured out the mystery wrapped in an enigma, Sam."

. . .

Danny was having a bad day.

Firstly, there was an ugly purple bruise on his temple that dappled all the way to his glabella (the bridge of his nose) that was so obvious he just knew someone would ask about it sooner or later. It had been his fault, really; he hadn't made it past his drunken parents in time, and he hadn't even thought about just flying out of his window while in ghost form. After getting smacked in the forehead with a beer bottle for running into his father, he had phased his hand through the fridge door to get his bottle of cold ectoplasm and had been making for the door when Maddie comes along to 'lecture' him about his grades, despite not having any to be lectured on. That was usually what happened when his parents got too do-dally on achohol and by now he knew he should be used to it, but he just couldn't stop shaking whenever either of their hands went near him.

Everything was still a bit of a blurr and he couldn't really recall the previous evening's experiences and when he tried hard to, a splitting headache would errupt through his skull and his vision went a bit fuzzy. Then, when he was brushing his teeth in front of the bathroom mirror before he had left the house, he had attempted to recall again; that had resulted in another ache. But, as he glanced at himself (light-headedly) in the glass, he could see his mismatched icy blue and brilliant green eyes had a strand of bloody crimson colour bleeding into the iris. If he stopped thinking about the duo he knew were involved with his memory loss, the dark hue just retreated back into his pupil to reveal his usual multicoloured eyes. Why it was doing that he had no idea, but he knew he should figure it out sooner or later. Hopefully, just hopfully, it wouldn't have anything to do with the fact that he could remember seeing Freakshow's cackling face and musty staff in the back of his head.

Then, he thought as he soared through the ice-cold winds billowing above Amity Park, then he realised something about yesterday that he could remember clear as a cloudless day. His memory stretched as far as floating in a weird sewege system talking to Sam and watching over a helplessly unconscious Tucker, which he was rather confused about considering that he couldn't remember how he got there or why he was there in the first place. A single moment replayed in his mind; the moment when Sam was asking him questions about his human half ( _beknowst to her_ , he thought meekly, _hopefully_ ), fingering a fresh ghost-ice crystal in the palm of her shaking hands. He could just about recall marvelling over her beautiful violet eye colour, too, but he didn't feel that was as important as what else he could conjure up...

 _"...do you know anything about Danny Fenton's home life?"_

 _Suddenly he spluttered, feeling a dribble of spit trickle down his chin in his shock. Wiping it away, he straightened himself up, looking at her with wide eyes. "Um..." he started, trying not to show his terror in his voice though he was afraid he had already failed, "a bit... I know that he goes to Casper High School and that his ghost portal is the only one I ever actually go through..."_

That one moment was egging him almost as badly as eggs do. When he had merely mentioned his human half he had been thrown into panic mode, a reflex he had learnt from so many years of secret keeping. Telling his secrets scared him, because they had the power to break apart families that had once been so close together. He knew what that was like, after all. Having his parents turn on you and _murder your sister_ had been the most terrifying, most traumatic experience of his entire crappy life.

 _Sam, still looking slightly suspiscious, raised a hand towards his shoulder; instantly a blinding spurt of terror flew through him and he sharply drew backwards, eyeing the hand with reflexively tense muscles. The girl only twitched before setting her hand down, smiling at him discreetly._

Then this came to mind, and he felt a spurt of terror lurch in the pit of his stomach. Sam wasn't a dumb girl, he knew as much as that. With his reaction she may as well know his status as a half-human, half-ghost hyrbid. Maybe, just maybe, he'll remain as that 'mystery wrapped in an enigma' for the rest of the day.

You never really know, do you?

* * *

 **That's chapter thirteen, folks!**

 **I actually really like this chapter. I mean, I don't know if you guys would, but I like it. Sorry about the cliffhanger (ugh, I'm so annoying)(is it a cliffhanger?), but the chapter was getting too long and I don't want to go past 6k words unless it is totally required. Ehehehehhh.**

 **Uh.. the funny story of the day.. ahaha!  
So today was World Book Day, and we were all dressed up (I was Harry Potter (the cheapest one yet)). I was eating my lunch when I see my awesome French teacher walking through the canteen dressed as Pop-Eye The Salior Man.. and he was accompanied with my half South African, half Portugese English teacher... WHO WAS WEARING NOTHING BUT SPEEDOS.  
I laughed for an hour. Lmao. XD Apparantly he was Phelps...**

 **Reviews..  
They motivate an author to deliver a good chapter and when I read them it makes me smile so so so hard! I love them so much ;D  
**

 **I'm aiming for 232 reviews (seven considerate people?) but more would make my dayyyyy...**

 **Also thank you to excusemeforamoment for reviewing every chapter! (If you do that I'll love you forever...)**

 **Bye guys!  
-Kinetic**


	14. Chapter 14: The Truth-

_**IMPORTANT NOTE AT THE END OF THE CHAPTER!**  
_

* * *

 **Traumatized  
** a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 14:**  
The Truth Doesn't Have To Hurt

. . .

Have you ever had that feeling when you feel like you haven't seen someone for a while, even though you only saw them yesterday or so, and you just want to tell them everything that had happened while they hadn't been there? But then you see them and how different they look even though you saw them recently and suddenly you feel uncomfortable and awkward around them?

It was difficult to explain even in Sam's mind, despite knowing that she was experiencing that very emotion as her violet eyes ran over a quivering Danny Fenton. The fourteen-year-old was grinning lopsidedly at her, stunningly detailed kaleidoscopic irises dulled with worry and blackhole pupils narrow in the golden streams of sunrays that broke through clumps of unblemished billow and dappled the tarmac in slanting light. It was as if he were scared, scared of something that she would say or do; and Sam knew exactly why. Keeping a secret that darastic must have been difficult enough, but someone finding it out (well, at least she thought (hoped) she did)? That must be plain terrifying upon confrontation. His smile was fading at her expectant silence, multicoloured eyes roaming across her expression, still looking afraid as ever. The icy breeze was toying with his tousled white-streaked raven bangs like a dead leaf in the wind, spreading strands across his button nose and unblemished pale skin.

In a way, Sam felt a little sorry for him. The way he looked so innocent and perfect was decieving. For such a charming, funny, amazing guy, Danny hid a whole lot. You wouldn't expect it if you looked at him from afar; he just looked so damn faultless that you would never notice the dullness in his eyes and the forced smile he put on even if you looked close. You wouldn't see how dead inside he really was until you knew how dead he actually was. Some people were good at keeping secrets a harmless secret; some just became bottled-up explosions that intoxicated you until you couldn't breath. Danny was one of those people who would keep them until they engulfed him in suffication, in Sam's eyes anyway. Whether he was any different towards his parents she didn't know, but she did know that restraining these kind of emotions had to be unhealthy for him. What was the saying... it's good to cry?

"Sam?" he asked, one eyebrow cocked and his lips turned up in a slightly lopsided smile. The confusion in his voice was evident and Sam could feel her heart melting away at his blamelessness. How could someone so damn perfect be half-dead?

Suddenly realising she was making him feel awkward with her silence, Sam said, "hi, Danny," in a quiet voice. She could feel the warm sun bathe her back and she nearly leant into the comforting sensation, trying to distract herself from the edgy silence. Their resident techno-geek had disappeared somewhere just a few moments before Danny had arrived, probably to catch up with Mr. Lancer for the extra credit work due in for tomorrow. Trust Tucker to leave her with the awful situation that he could easily be helping her with; that would make it so much better. Stomach churning, the gothic teenager offered Danny a half-hearted, shaken smile, watching the way he shifted his weight onto one leg and gazed out across the sunlit horizon; the mismatched hues in his eyes were aglow with golden streaks of light, giving him an unsurprisingly angelic look.

Despite his airy behaviour, Sam could see his hands trembling lightly at his slender sides, like he was uneasy. There was a slight unsettlement in his multicoloured eyes as he threw a quick glance at her, before he finally decided to speak. "Sooo..." he dragged the 'o' sound on awkwardly, wringing his fingers in the palms of his sweaty hands, "you gonna say somethin', or are we just gonna stand here?" She had barely heard his voice, being so intrigued in watching him just stop and stare into skyline, but she refocused her eyes and stared into his intense hues, trying to conjure up a response quick enough to make it less awkward.

"Oh, yes," she coughed into the crook of her elbow, feeling her throat close up and stomach churn anxiously, "h-how're you feeling today?" The question was half-hearted, but caring all the same; like she wanted to make sure he was okay though she wasn't at all okay herself. Sure, she was physically healthy (except for the annoying rope burns around her slender wrists), but she couldn't close her eyes without seeing bloody red soak into lively ectoplasmic green like a drop of dye in water, without hearing the cackle that could shake the Earth itself. If that was what _she_ was going through, imagine what Danny was feeling, being the one who had lost control over his body by a sick faggot like Freakshow; poor guy.

"Why?" Danny questioned, frowning - he rubbed a hand across his jawline and it was then that Sam noticed the painful-looking bruise dappling the skin like the spots of sunlight that slanted across his black Nike shoes. It was coloured an ugly purple, with pinches of yellow and even some bloody red marks against the large scar that ran under his neck. _What did they even do to the poor guy?_ she thought sourly, furrowing her own brow in concern. If she asked about it, she'd probably get the 'I ran into a tree' excuse again, so she felt she should wait intil her confessions were done before she even pretended to notice. Though, she was nervous that it was too late; he looked pretty self-consious now, holding his hand on the jawline with a finger covering up the more severe parts of the bruise. How convinent. He happens to put his hand right on his chin right when I notice it, Sam thought, raising an eyebrow.

"Because you're my friend, dummy! That's why!" With a playful shove to his shoulder, Sam attempted to lighten the atmospheric mood, clinging hard to that tendril of desperate hope that engulfed her thumping heart as Danny responded with a guardered smile.

"Ahaha. How nice of you," he said sarcastically, "I'm fine, thanks. The sun makes me happy." As if to support this he stared up at the giant yellow ball in the sky, the lopsided smile adorning his face growing wider. This time it looked relaxed instead of forced and this made her undeniably happy. She hid her own smile under her sleeve, though. Danny didn't have to know how red her cheeks were growing; not really, anyway. "Are you alright, Sam? You're staring at me." The expression he was giving her; easygoing, though slightly tensed; was giving her the shivers. Those stunning kaleidoscopic eyes and blackhole pupils could suck her in faster then any whirlpool could.

The teenager blinked at the hand waving about in front of her unfocused eyes, snapping back to life within an instant. "Oh, uh, sorry. Got... got a bit lost in m-my thoughts," she rushed out without thinking, chuckling comically to add the 'whoops' effect though she could see the doubt in Danny's multicoloured eyes as they gave her a brief once-over.

"What where you thinking about?" The question was gentle, pointed. Like he really wanted to know but couldn't bear to make her hurry - he was just that kind of guy, she thought silently.

"I was thinking about how..." the female paused, running a tired hand through her silky raven hair. While she didn't want to confront Danny about her newest discovery, she knew she'd have to do it some time. There was no point putting it off since she'd have to do it anyway; she may as well get it over and done with sooner rather then later, right? "Look. Danny... I have to tell you something." The silence between them was tense; even the sound of cheering and slapping shoes on tarmac couldn't penetrate the wall that formed around the two. There was nothing but them, staring at each other with mutual nervousness that sent missiles crashing through her sliver of hope. The downfall of her confidence was nearly painful, but probably wasn't as severe as what Danny would be thinking.

She wondered what his thought train was right now; maybe it was 'what the fuck is she gonna tell me?!' or maybe even 'did she find out I'm a halfa?'. As well as this, Sam could imagine him thinking in a comical way, like saying 'ohhh snap, shit's about to go doownn' or 'how fantabulous. I'm fucked'. Knowing Danny, he'd probably be kicking himself for being so careless when Sam reached for his ghost half's shoulder. If that was Danny. All of her clues led up to her theory and, to be honest, there was nothing actually disproving it apart from the fact that Danny hasn't confirmed it. And she was about to do just that; maybe he'll agree straight away, maybe he'll snap at her. It's hard to figure out Danny sometimes and it was sure hard to figure out how his ghostly alter-ego would affect the reaction.

"What is it?" Danny responded after a while, his tone shaky and his hands quivering at his side very slightly - Sam could feel her heart break at the sound of his voice. It was like he knew she had important news.

"T-this is really hard to explain..." she sucked in a heavy breath, feeling her chest inflate at the sudden rush of oxygen, "but I'll go ahead anyway. Uh... this is-"

"Sam, say whatever you have to say, will you?" His tone was sharper then usual and it sent shivers cascading down her spine at the sound.

Sending him a sour glare, Sam composed herself. "But-"

"Don't say _but_. Just say it."

" _Stop_ interrupting me, Danny!" Sam snapped, ignoring the fact that she could see the twinkle of hurt in his eyes. Oh, those beautiful eyes...

"Stop _shouting_ at me, will you?" Danny responded, albeit gingerly; she could hear that he was trying his hardest not to raise his voice. Easily provoked or just nervous of the loud noises?

"If you stop interrupting me, I'll stop shouting, you absolute idiot!" she snarled without thinking - Danny visibly tensed at the name call.

"Just s-stop yelling... p-please-"

Too afraid to hear what he was going to say now she had screwed up, Sam felt a burst of confidence streak through her and she rushed it out all in one go. "IknowyourahalfaandIknowthatyou'rePhantom..."

"Say that again?" Danny asked, frowing at her. The gothic teenager took a deep breath, secretly glowering at the boy with all her might though she tried her best to hide it (she was failing, judging by Danny's offended expression and equally bitter glare in return. Boy, could he glare like crazy). Nerves were crashing through her stomach like a tidal wave and she swallowed it down so hard her throat actually started to hurt, diverting her violet eyes to the ragged tips of her favourite combat boots.

"I know... I know you're a halfa. I know that you're Phantom, D-Danny."

. . .

"I know... I know you're a halfa. I know that you're Phantom, D-Danny."

The silence that followed was long, longer then it should have been. The halfa could feel terror seizing his chest, a horrific squeezing sensation that sent numbing tingles blazing through his body as fast as wildfire. For a second or two he couldn't feel anything and he stepped backwards dizzily, black spots clouding his vision; he blinked them away before he could fall unconscious (that would've been awkward). His brain felt light and he couldn't think, too terrified to move or say anything to an expectant Sam. She had her eyes softened at his reaction, one hand moving to touch his shoulder, but he jerked away the moment he saw it - he didn't want her to hurt him, or touch him for that matter. Even his throat was closing up and it felt like everything just went twenty degrees colder around him, his breaths coming out short and panicky. He was hyperventilating and he couldn't stop.

Suddenly, his thoughts bombed him hard as a tidal wave all at once; _I knew it! I knew she found out!_ _Jesus, she's going to kill me so hard_ , _oh shit oh shit oh shit_ _shitshitshithshitshit_... They whirled in his brain so fast that he could feel the light-headedness searing through his head increase, hitting against him like Thor's hammer. What was she thinking? What should he say? He could hear her calling his name, but her voice was quiet and distant, like everything had been plunged underwater. "Danny?" he momentarily caught a solid word, spoken in a soft, tender tone like she was too scared to startle him, "Dan...y, are... okay?" He could only make out a few sounds and his headache grew into a migrane, pins and needles spreading through his body and leaving him with an uncomfortable numb feeling. Everything... spun? Did he really think it was this big of a deal?

 _Last time someone found out, someone innocent was killed_.

His thoughts played back memories of his sister and the day her life had been ended by his own father, but within a few seconds he snapped himself back into reality. _That_ wasn't something he wanted to fall back into at this moment in time. "Danny," Sam's voice came firmly; Danny was surprised to feel the world rise out of the murky green waters of the pond, glancing around to see that a lot of people were staring. Feeling his cheeks grow a brilliant shade of red, his kaleidoscopic eyes dropped to his trainers, unable to look Sam in the eye. He didn't want to see her pity, if she had any that was.

"Please, Sam-" he cut himself off, feeling his voice rasp a little, "-I d-don't want to t-t-tal- talk about i-it right now." Sam's gaze was heavier then a weight on his shoulders, pinning him down. It was like he was under custody for being a half-ghost. _Just calm down. The trauma is on the inside_ , he told himself stubbornly, trying to take a long breath - he frowned as it came back out shaky and uneasy, wondering why his 'steady on' trick wasn't working. Usually it did; when someone asked about the bruises on his arms or why he walks home so slowly back in California, he would get tense and heavy breathing would help him keep his composure.

"I just... I just want to know... how?"

Danny looked up through his white-streaked raven bangs, which had fallen over his eyes while he had been studying his shoes with intense detail. The expression Sam held made him nervous; expectant, fierce, yet gentle all the same. Like she was waiting for an angry child to stop screaming before she scolded him, almost. Sighing, the halfa diverted his gaze back down. "P-please, Sam..." he started, then trailed off again. His voice didn't want to work today, or maybe that was just him. It was difficult to tell the difference now.

"Danny. Look at me."

A hand placed itself on his chin and gently lifted his head up a little, forcing his multicoloured eyes onto Sam's vibrant violet ones. Her pupils were like blackholes; more hypnotising then a whirlhole. Shifting a step or two away from her, throat hitching on bated, icy breath. "Stop _shaking_ , will you? I'm not going to hurt you-" She suddenly cut off, her fixed look fading with realisation. Everything about her softened and her hand moved away from the tense teenager who stood before her, before she said in a quiet, understanding tone, "d-did anyone hurt y-you when they f-found out?"

Danny's breathing turned to hyperventilation again and he took another uneasy step backwards upon instict, despite Sam's efforts to look as gentle as possible. "Woah," she made out steadily, "Danny? Are you okay? You need any water?" Shaking his head, he instinctively bit his lip, a guesture of worry that he often found himself doing more and more often. A hand moved to his shoulder but he flinched away from the comforting touch; it jerked away like it had just been burnt, and Danny noticed how Sam looked so hurt as her hand settled beside her once more.

"You're hyperventilating, Danny," Sam told him softly, causing him to purse his lips and look back up at her for a few nervous seconds.

"I-I know," he sighed, "it happens a lot..."

Sam was quiet again, her eyes falling to the ground. "Panic attacks?" she asked understandingly, still not looking up at Danny. The halfa shifted uncomfortably, wringing his fingers between clamy palms and running a hand through the messy black and white locks that hung over his kaleidoscopic eyes like a curtain protecting him from the outdoor world. It was times like this that he wished he had never met Sam; she was amazing but too smart for her own good sometimes. He nodded, eyes staying planted to the ground. Sam ran her hand up his arm, gaining his attention, and was about to speak again when-

"Little Badger!"

* * *

 **I'M SO SORRY THAT THIS WAS SO SHORT AND TOOK SO LONG BUT I NEEDED TO GET A CHAPTER OUT BEFORE EVERYONE HATED ME.**

 **PLEASE READ:**

 **So I got a PM from someone saying something about my "good job of going AWOL" and "RIP my account". You have no idea how angry I got at this. _I DO NOT LIVE TO UPDATE THIS STORY. I HAVE A LIFE. PLEASE DO NOT PM ME SAYING THINGS LIKE THIS._ My life has been hard with depression and some things happening between my parents and I just haven't had time to write.**

 **To the person who had pmed me that, you're not exactly my favourite person ever. You made me rush my chapter ;_;**

 **Now that's sorted...**

 **Guys I'm so sorry that this long-awaited chapter took so long yet was so fucking bad. I just... I just needed all these PMs and emails telling me that my account was dead and that they were unfollowing because of this to stop. I'm sorry T_T**

 **Sohoho, who wants a funnt story? I know I do!  
My English teacher had taken us outside for drama and someone started to play football. Instead of telling them off, the teacher tripped over a metal pole, ran at them as hard as he could and ripped the ball out of the person's hands, screaming as he ran away. Remember that he's a 25 year old man X33**

 **Hmf... I won't ask for reviews because they'd all be horrible due to the crappy cha, but a few nice ones would make my day 3**

 **love you all,**

 **-kinetic**


	15. Chapter 15: Power Surge

_so sorry about the wait - I haven't had a computer to use! it broke (doesn't connect to wifi *cries*)_ _ **also, please read...**_ _so I re-read the story and realised how unnatural it sounded, so I'll be doing shorter paragraphs. they'll be better quality though~! heh, I don't know if they'll be long, because I'm writing this on Word and they seem big on there..._

* * *

 **Traumatized  
** a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 15:**  
Power Surge

. . .

A few hours before Vlad had showed up at Danny's school, he had been pacing in his lab, his expression folded into one of discomfort and confusion. There were streaks of vivid ectoplasm crisscrossing the walls around the portal, the edges of the metal singed with stains of black ash. The distinct scent of burning settled its way into the halfa's sensitive sense of smell, causing him to wrinkle his nose; it smelt disgusting, none the less. He could feel himself choking, it was that strong. A lump had formed in his throat and his windpipe was closing off merely being in the room.

The air in the lab was different - especially around the ghost portal. He could definitely pick out the surge of power in the atmosphere, like a switch had been flicked and suddenly the Ghost Zone was bursting with raw ghostly energy, ready to be unleashed at any moment. It was a thrilling feeling; to not even have to go into the Zone to energise, instead only having to linger around the portal for a few short minutes. He would have bathed in power if the sudden increase hadn't been so worrying.

Vlad was not a heartless man. Some (namely Danny) could say that he didn't care about other people or ghosts, only wanting everything to himself without caring about the outcome. Sure, he didn't really care about the damage he caused in a fight with other ghosts (... again, namely Danny), but when an entire dimension just suddenly popped with energy so quickly it seemed like it would explode? That was certainly concerning. He couldn't let the home of another species get harmed, or watch the ghosts cry with rage as they lost their place. There was something wrong with the Ghost Zone and he didn't know what.

He watched the portal, midnight blue irises flaming with powerful green energy that swirled in the singed metal. It seemed alive and impatient, waiting to engulf an entity into its angry grasp, and Vlad could feel his ghost half practically screaming for the raw power. _I wonder what's up with it_ , he thought to himself, his gaze falling onto the splashes of ectoplasm that burst up the walls like splatters of paint, _it's been randomly popping ectoplasm everywhere... I really am not looking forward to cleaning this mess up._ A sigh settled through his body as he urged himself to make a decision; go in and possibly meet something even he couldn't beat, or stay out and let the Zone surge so much that it implodes in on itself or something like that.

 _I may as well go in_ , he told himself stubbornly, his stomach regrettably squeezing as he thought about what he may or may not meet. Why he felt so anxious he wouldn't know. It didn't take long for those familiar black rings to scour over his body, turning him from human to ghost with little effort. Peach skin turned blue, his grey ponytail turned to raven horn-shaped points, blood-lusted red bled into midnight blue, and his black suit morphed to white - a familiar warm feeling settled in the pit of his chest, and another heart pulsed energy through his veins. It had been a little while since he had gone from Masters to Plasmius and it honestly felt fantastic.

He glanced at his hand, noticing his aura shone brighter then it usually did, and shook it off as the power surge affecting him. _I wonder what is causing the increase,_ he thought to himself as he floated off the ground, hovering toward the swirling grasps of the portal. Streaks of ectoplasm practically pulled him in, calling for him in loud, ghostly wails. A shiver cascaded down his spine; a pang of regret shot through him, and he plopped to the ground for a few short, unsteady seconds. He was usually so confident. Why was this nervous feeling suddenly washing over him?

 _It's just the Zone. You've been in there so many times with no problem._ The halfa sucked in a sharp breath, and allowed his body to fall into the portal with closed eyes. The pull of mutli-dimentional travel yanked fiercely at his body as he was launched away from the portal, floating and hunched up in a ball. A faint green light tapped at his eyelids, breaking the veil of darkness, and he fluttered them open to see he was in the Zone. Only a few meters away from the portal, the halfa unfolded himself more, stretching his arms over his head as he studied the area.

It took a while, but he soon noticed how... different... the Ghost Zone was. Usually it was a fern green and sprung with lights from the random portals, ecto-ray fire and the aura of ecto-pusses floating about, but now there was nothing. The neverending swirls were verdant as usual, but were stained with black and red, gradually growing over the Zone's heavens from one direction. His eyes roamed over the growing evil and he shuddered, wondering what was causing the Zone to change colours this suddenly. Whatever was making this happen was bound to have bad intentions and he needed to find the source fast.

"Where is everyone?" he asked himself aloud, rolling his fingers at his side impatiently. There were no ghosts around for as far as he could see - not even the Box Ghost hovered nearby, searching for someone to piss off as usual. The growing concern in his body morphed to his stomach twisting nervously. Why was everything changing colour? Where were the ghosts? And what could cause something so darastic? Nothing had ever done something so severe to the Zone as to change it's colour, or chase even _Skulker_ out of his seemingly-abandoned home. He wondered about the red and black streaks crawling over the green like a veil and what it was doing. _Since it's changing the green colour, could it be sucking the ectoplasmic energy out of the Zone? Maybe the power surge was the Ghost Zone's last attempt to fight back, to try and turn everything back to normal again?_

 _That's a possibility,_ he concluded, his hand lighting up with a hot pink ecto-ray. _What if I blasted at it?_ He put both hands together and directed as much ghostly energy from his core into his hands as possible, then tensed his fingers and urged the ray skyward. It shot up at lightning speed, faster then usual, only to absorbed by the red and black blanket like a sponge. _Biscuits. I just fed it_. A sigh engulfed his body and he looked back at the portal he had come through as if to make sure it was still there, then flew out in the direction of where the source of the evil was coming from.

After only a few minutes, Vlad recognised the area he was in. It was on the way to Pariah's Keep, which was (hopefully) abandoned apart from the sleeping ghost king still in the coffin. His blazing red eyes fell upon what he guessed was the horizon, squinting through the lack of light that usually protruded from the green swirls of the Zone walls. _It's coming from Pariah's Keep_ , he thought to himself, his breath sharpening. _What could be happening in there? The king has remained asleep for centuries... how could he be affecting the Zone while asleep?_ He chose not to go any closer - he wasn't prepared properly, and he knew that if it was Pariah causing trouble then he'd need the help of someone who he knew had plently of ghostly knowledge. Clockwork? No, if he were to need his help, then the time ghost would appear to him anyway.

His mind crossed over a certain ghost boy, one he knew both had a human and a ghost side, who he had met only a week or so ago. Before the boy had moved to Amity, he had lived in California, serving as the one and only friendly neighborhood ghost that would interact with citizens and rid of any hostile spectres. He was smart, powerful, and hopelessly clueless, as Vlad had discovered upon their first meeting. A smirk fell onto his face and the halfa was already turning back for the portal.

. . .

Danny couldn't believe what he was seeing. A tall, grey-haired and unfortunately familiar older man was stood in the playground, his slender shadow cast across the tarmac in a golden stream of light. The ponytail that lay over broad shoulders shook in the gentle breeze that winded within the cold, crisp air, and his midnight blue eyes were pointed and sharp. An all-too-familiar feeling of disgust swelled in Danny's clenched stomach; from when he had first met Vlad Masters behind the stage at the ghost weapon showcase, he had hated him.

 _"Hello Daniel," a soft purr came from the man's smiling mouth, his midnight blue eyes hawk-like as they ran over Danny's HAZMAT-suit clad form. The teenager glared back, his fists clenched in their raven gloves, kaleidoscopic optics shimmering fiercely. He had an aura around him that Danny didn't like; his scent of strawberries and champagne only spiked the hate that had already settled in his mind. For some reason, he didn't seem trustworthy, like he would lash out at any given moment. Perhaps it was him being unintentionally suspicious, or just plain paranoid, but he couldn't avoid the feeling that clouded his opinion of Vlad._

 _"Fucktard, be polite! He's saying hello to a scum like you, isn't he? You should be awfully grateful!" Jack snarled, causing Danny to jump. A trickle of terror bled into his head and he straightened up, smoothing the creases out of his HAZMAT suit._

 _"Hello," the teen responded gingerly, hating the feeling of his parent's angry eyes boring into the back of his head._

 _"A shy one, isn't he?" Vlad commented with a soft chuckle, "he's delightful, Maddie. Awfully handsome." His midnight blue eyes glistened with something unnatural, his expression folding into one of pure interest as they stared at Danny's fierce face. "One blue, one green. How unique! That white streak, too. And such a fierce expression. You've inherited your parent's looks, I see?" Danny made a face at that statement, his hands wringing nervously at his stomach. He did not want to inherit those looks, that was for sure._

 _"Ah, I suppose so," Maddie responded curtly, though Danny could hear the distaste in her tone, "don't be fooled by his looks, though. He's a real dumbass. But he's useful, so I can't really get rid of him..."_

 _"How could you get rid of such a delightful boy?" Vlad purred thoughtfully. A shiver cascaded down Danny's spine and he shifted in his rubber HAZMAT boots, his fringe falling over his optics. He barely noticed the cloud of blue gas emitting from his parted lips as he turned to transform into his ghostly counterpart._

"Uh, Danny, why is Vlad Masters here?" Sam's voice shook a little, and Danny looked over at her with serious eyes. Hot anger boiled through his veins, his fists clenched at his sides; it took all energy he had not to burst into ectoplasmic flames, like he had once done while shouting at his parents and ended up buring half the living room down. Sam probably had no idea that Vlad was related to him **(A/N: I'm not entirely sure whether they're related in the show, but this is an AU so it doesn't matter if they are c:)**.

The fact that he had just been found out forgotten, the halfa watched his uncle carefully, kaleidoscopic optics narrowed. "Vlad," he hissed darkly, " _por kio vi venis_ **("why are you here?")** " He barely even noticed that he had slipped into ghost speak through his anger, and didn't flinch when the man took what he had said with a short chuckle.

" _Mi bezonas vian helpon, Iom Melo_ **("I need your help, Little Badger")** ," he responded smoothly, making the younger soften his expression only a fraction. What would the great Vlad Masters - his uncle - need his help with? And why didn't he just call or something? He glanced around, briefly questioning why someone hadn't gotten a teacher because a rapist was in the school playground.

" _Mi estas ce lernejo, Vlad! Mi nenion povas fari por vin tuj! Povis vi jus nomis ia? Mi estas sufice certa ke vi havas mian numeron_ **("I'm at school, Vlad! I can't do anything for you right now! Couldn't you have just called or something? I'm pretty sure you have my number!")**!" he barked, clearly irrated with the older man. Vlad sniffed, his brow deepening as he frowned at his brother's fourteen-year-old child. Danny squared up with an equally unimpressed glare, and soon the both found themselves in a brief staring contest. Through lack of focus, Vlad won, of course.

"It's ghostly," the man said in clear English, making Danny jump a little, "and I know you're good in that area. Come on, Daniel, you need to come with me now. We don't have much time." He motioned to his car - a bright cherry red Porche, it's shaded windows glinting in the light - and offered Danny a short smile, only for it to fall as the teen stubbornly shook his head and took an uneasy step back. Why should he get into his uncle's car (even if it was incredibly beautiful in one's eyes) during school so suddenly? Someone once told him to not get in a stranger's car, right?

"Just because I happen to know a thing or two about ghosts doesn't mean I'd get into your car, Vlad, you pervert!" Danny exclaimed angrily, his eyes blazing as the man only breathed out a chuckle in response.

"Daniel, unless you want the entire Ghost Zone to implode in on itself, I advise you follow me. I've already gotten an employee to inform the school you're going home sick." The man's voice expressed his determination, eyes growing firm as he stared Danny down. With a sharp frown, the teen thought about what Vlad had said. _Since when was the Zone going to implode? And why didn't Maddie or Jack tell me about it?! I could just go in there and see what the problem is... maybe that's why Vlad wants me to come with him...? It's possible that he needed some help since he's unable to go into the Zone himself... does he know that I'm a halfa? I can't remember._

"Fi-"

A hand placed on his shoulder and Danny glanced around to see a quivering Sam, who had stayed quiet the entire time. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, but it was probably all aimed at him - negatively. "Don't," she whispered uneasily, "that's Amity's mayor, Danny. I know you've only just moved here and so you won't know him well, but he isn't to be trusted. It's not safe!" Her voice raised a little, and both Danny and Vlad visibly flinched at the sudden squeak of noise.

"He's also my uncle, Sam, and he needs my help," Danny muttered in response, earning a surprised 'huh?' from Sam, before he pulled away from her, "if he's telling the truth then I can't let the Zone implode or whatever."

She lowered her head and sighed something about 'the Zone being his home.' Danny ignored the comment, instead choosing to turn toward Vlad, who was smiling at the scene. The teen couldn't help but quiver at the sight of his toothy smile, charming and welcoming, with a tint of secrecy between pearly whites. "Daniel is correct, Samantha. I am indeed his father's brother, and he knows very well that I can be trusted. Come, Daniel, we must get going. There is a lot to discuss when we get back to my mansion," Vlad purred, turning on his heel and striding toward his expensive-looking car.

And with that, Danny jogged off after his uncle, his feet silent against the tarmac.

* * *

 **my updates are gradually getting longer, guys. I'm honestly so sorry if the chapter was bad or boring or generally too short in any way, but I needed to get a chapter up. I'll try and get the next few chapters to be longer and better quality, I promise, but life's been hard right now in ways more then one and I think I'm still sorting things out.** **so I'm not sure whether I got Vlad's character right. I'm sorry he's OOC in any way, I tried my hardest to get him right. And I'm also sorry if anyone else is OOC too, again I tried. like I think I got Danny right but Sam was a bit too quiet. oh well, no one is perfect I suppose~**

 **funny stories make everything better, right? enjoy some 'emo author being awkward' again~  
so this year 9 confessed his love to me! he was really nervous and said I was cute and he really liked me and I didn't know what to say counting that a) I like him AS A FRIEND and b) I'm reallyyyy awkward and hate to make people feel bad. so guess what I did: I stabbed myself with a pencil and said "oops I'm bleeding got to go" and ran off. heheh.**

 **mm, I would really like *300 reviews* though I know that won't happen~ so maybe 290? if I get to 300 then you'll get another humor chapter soon because, lets face it, you guys liked the last one x33 (it's the teacher pranking one!). I like my stories to be a mixture of genres I suppose... whoops. Anyway, please express any opinions you have, and no flames please! you have no idea how seriously I take bad reviews and I get scared to update. so sensitive *cri*. but really, please review? :V**

 **gdbai,** **-Kinetic c:**

 **PS: I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE DISSECTION SCENE COMING SOON YASS.**

 **EDIT (literally right after I posted the chapter): Danny doesn't know Vlad is a halfa. sorry if it's unclear in the story~!**


	16. Chapter 16: A Helping Hand

**_mY COLD BLACK EMO HEART HAS DIED. MY BLACK EYELINER IS RUNNING INTO MY RIPPED BLACK SKINNY JEANS. MY DARK SOULD JUST TRIED TO REACH HELL BUT THEN FELL INTO HELL (I'M HOME!). THIS. IS. TH. BEST. FALL OUT BOY/MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE MASHUP. cRAFTING INTO TEMMIE VILLAGE. I CAN'T. TOO BEAUTIFUL TO NOT PHANIC! AT THE DISCO. THERE IS nO REASON NOT TO GO AND SAY hOI TO THE TEMMIES. BECAUSE THIS IS toO BEAUTIFuL._**

 _(...anyway... enjoy!)_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 16:**  
A Helping Hand

. . .

The first thought that had struck Vlad as soon as his younger brother's fourteen-year-old son opened his car's polished door was _hasn't he ever heard of something called stranger danger?_ but he chose not to dwell on the fact; besides, weren't you supposed to trust your uncle when he asks you to come to his house because he doesn't want to face a ghost that could possibly beat him to a bloodied pulp floating around in the Ghost Zone? _Okay, so maybe I sound a bit like a child stalker, but he obliged with little trouble... even though that gothic girlfriend of his warned him, he still agreed, right...?_

It was thrilling to have such a tempestuous teenager in the back of his car, he realized as he clambered into the front seat. He didn't seem too happy with his current situation and his gaze seemed glaring and fixated, making Vlad's excitement churn in his stomach. Something told him that if he were to try anything, he would probably get beaten so hard that he wouldn't be able to move the next day. Not to mention that his child was a halfa - which was extremely rare, coming from a halfa himself. That just gifted him with stronger powers than that of power that someone would expect him to have. When Vlad had been told about Danny's species, he had initionally thought that the boy would be weaker from lack of experience of using these abilities. But at the ghost weapon showcase, he bluntly realized that the teenager may be just as powerful as him, if not even more powerful.

He was getting stronger - and it interested Vlad.

After all, all kinds of power made him sit up straighter; royal power (he wished!), physical power, mental power... he craved it all like a hungry cat circling around it's owners feet before a meal. Having a powerful that would understand his abilities, his transformation and his mental capacities would make controlling large groups of people a whole lot easier. But while these thoughts entertained him, the fact that Danny would most likely refuse if he asked had completely bypassed his mind; and as he realized it, his heart dropped a fraction heavier. There was no way that the stubborn teenager would accept his offer to be his 'apprentice of evil' for a long time. He was developing what he didn't want - a hero complex.

It wasn't a bad thing to have a hero complex for a lot of people; it would mean that they're more overprotective over the innocent, yes, but it would also mean that they battle more fiercely when someone they love gets injured by the enemy. This, in turn, could lead to weaknesses that could easily be used against them - for instance, if Vlad were to fight against a ghost with a hero complex (coughDannycough), he would choose to use a member of their family or a close friend as bait. That was exactly why Vlad didn't want Danny developing one - it would only weaken him.

If only he could figure out a way to get him to stop...

The older man tilted the mirror in his car back ever so slightly so he could see Danny, watching as the teenager attached the seat belt into the slot and met his gaze through the glass fiercely. He was fidgeting slightly, shifting on the seats with an uncomfortable tenseness. "Daniel, are you feeling alright?" Vlad inquired, his voice smooth as honey in order to keep his casual facade, "do you not like the leather in the seats? I thought you'd appreciate the comfort of these rather than my stuffy old Jaguar's padded seats; I certainly find they're more relaxing to sit in."

Sharp kaleidoscopic eyes flashed nervously, a pair of delicate hands rubbing his wrists. "Oh, n-no. It's just... I've never been in a car with so much freedom, is all," he spoke softly. Vlad cocked an eyebrow; _a car with so much freedom? What does that even mean?!_ ; and he was just about to open his mouth to question the statement before Danny seemed to find a problem with what he said and rushed in quickly to correct himself. "I m-meant that I've never been in such a fancy car! Y-yeah, see, we have a stuffy RV, so I haven't sat in a proper car for ages... yeah, that's all. Heh."

Somehow, Vlad could sense he was lying; but despite him being a smart man (also insanely ecotistical - kinda like Iron Man), he couldn't figure out why Danny would lie anyways. As far as he knew, he had nothing to lie about other than his status as a halfa. Perhaps he'll ask about it when the situation was less dire.

"Okay then," Vlad purred, putting the key into the ignition and smiling as the car vibrated to life. Danny seemed to jump at the sudden movement beneath him, but he didn't make a surprised noise. Instead, his intense gaze flickered toward Vlad, flaring with something that the older couldn't quite forget. There was a sense of pain behind the flames that danced within his irises, and a sparkle of dullness that he couldn't figure out. Maybe the deadness in his eyes was the fault of his ghostly counterpart... "Daniel," he began, pulling the car out in a smooth U-turn onto the road ahead, "your eyes. Were you born with them being different colours?"

The teenager blinked at the question. "As far as I know," he responded, though it sounded uncertain - like he was lying through his teeth. Choosing not to point it out, Vlad continued to question him.

"They're unusual. I've never seen one with eyes that are different colours from each other. I believe the word is 'heterochromia,' correct?" he said, nodding at the hum that Danny replied with, "I'm surprised you know what that word means, Daniel." ... _crack_.

At this, Danny's temper spiked, and his eyes flashed with a burst of ectoplasmic energy. His fists clenching at his sides, Vlad could have sworn that a mere whisp of an ecto-flame exploded in his palms, but he saw nothing else prominent; like Danny had wanted to blast him right in the head but chose against it at the second he decided. Intrugied at such a reaction, Vlad could feel his mouth light up with a curious smile. The boy seemed to be the kind of person to not resort to his more violent ghostly abilities, yet he had sparked them the moment he had heard a mere insult? How interesting; Vlad could see the potential in him already.

"Ooh, you do have a temper!" Vlad chuckled amusedly, making the boy's fists visibly tighten, "I don't think you're dumb whatsoever, Daniel. In fact, you appear to be very intelligent; I was just simply testing to see if your mother was correct, and she was. She told me that you can get worked up easily. Don't take it personally, Little Badger." He drove on smoothly, his midnight eyes scanning the road ahead. There were little to no cars ahead or behind them, making the journey a whole lot faster; he had always loved an empty road. It made him feel rich - for some reason.

"What's your deal, fruitloop?!" Danny hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing as he stared Vlad down through the mirror.

The older man flinched. "I'm not sure what you mean, Little Badger," he responded.

"You know exactly what I mean!" the teenager exploded, "first you get me to help you for Clockwork knows what, then you're admiring my everliving beauty-" Vlad snorted at the sarcastic comment, "-then you're suddenly calling me stupid! What the fuck is your deal, you creepy fruitloop?" The spark that had flamed in his palms were breaking through his fingertips, and the boy visibly took a deep breath to calm himself down. _At least he has some common sense... well, some, anyway._

The man's eyebrows rose above his hairline at his unbeatable attitude - and, of course, the nickname. He stayed focused on the road, not even lifting his thougtful midnight blue gaze up to meet Danny's angered gaze in the mirror. _Such a perfect reaction,_ he told himself, a smug smirk toying on his lips, _he's powerful when he's angry. I can sense the ectoplasmic energy wafting off him from here._ Vlad unconsciously wrinkled his nose, before he relaxed fully into his seat. "Firstly, I don't appreciate that nickname you gave me; Fruitloop?" he snorted, his hands grasping the wheel tighter as he smoothly pulled the car toward a busy road that seemed to lead out of Amity.

"... my nicknames are perfectly fine, Fruitloop. Can you tell me why I'm here now, or are you just going to kidnap me for no reason? I don't want to be molested, you old fart," Danny's gaze dropped to outside the window as the thick line of bushes tapered away to show the jagged horizon in the distance; ever since he had gotten into the car, the sun had risen further up in the sky and the orange colours that once lit up the sky had faded into the usual vibrant blue of daylight. There were no clouds that had remained in the sky, just a vast sheet of blue that encased the world in happy glows.

Vlad released a breath as if he was a smoker puffing out a cloud of smoke. "I was going to save it for when we got to Wisconsin, but I suppose we may as well begin on the journey there. If you didn't already know, I needed your help. Well, I needed Phantom's help. I was down in my lab, when I noticed that my ghost portal was behaving... differently, I suppose. Since I'm human, I couldn't go in to see what was wrong... so I thought I should call a ghost I can trust to help me to have a look at the Zone." Aware that he was lying (he couldn't exactly tell Danny that he was a halfa - not yet, anyway), Vlad put on a sly smirk as an attempt to keep up his casual façade.

"So... you want me - Phantom - to act as your ghost slave and go into the Zone to see why it's acting slightly weird?" Danny concluded stubbornly. His gaze was focused on the back of Vlad's head and his arms were crossed over his chest, expressing his scepticis for the proposal.

The older man hummed, "basically."

"No way am I doing that! The Ghost Zone always acts weird. And since when did you have your own ghost portal?" Breathing heavily through his nostrils, the inquisitive teenager ran a hand through his messy black and white bangs, seeming to consider the situation more. Vlad wished, in the non-creepiest way possible, that he could see Danny's train of thought. "And are you sure that it isn't your portal playing up?"

"That is why I need your assistance; I don't know. My portal is built just as stable as your own portal. I am pretty sure that it's of the Ghost Zone's fault." Vlad brought the car around in one smooth movement on a busy roundabout, expertly weaving between cars.

Danny rolled his eyes and sat deeper into the car seat. "The Zone's fine, fruitloop," he retorted, "it's your dodgy portal! Can I go home now?"

"Daniel, I promise you that it isn't my portal playing up. If it is, then I'll take you home within the hour. Now sit tight and stop complaining; we're still half an hour out of Wisonsin." With that, Danny huffed and gave the older man a dirty glare, before watching the colours pass by the window in silence.

. . .

Sam couldn't stop the butterflies that settled in her stomach from flip-flopping about like a flag caught in a coastal breeze.

Too many things to think about, too many situations to process all at once; she could feel herself overheating slightly. First off, Danny hadn't actually denied the fact that he was a halfa, and she somehow felt awful about exposing her awareness to him. When he had first come into the playground, he had seemed so content that he could have actually fooled her by getting her to think that he was just an innocent human being. His gaze caught in the sun-lit, jagged horizon and his face bathed in a pool of golden light; that had hidden the haggardness she could only just see underneath.

But once she had told him that she knew he was in fact a halfa, his mood seemed to go down by a million percent, and he seemed shakier and more nervous-looking then usual. His gaze fell to his feet, he wobbled dizzily for a few moments, and he had stuttered when he talked. Then, after he had point-blank refused to tell her just how he had become a halfa, he had admitted that he gets frequent panic attacks; that was something she had felt concerned about. Was it his ghostly counterpart causing them, or was it her other hypothesis?

Danny sure was an enigma. From when they had first met, he had seemed open and curious, but she had never been able to stop seeing the deadness that resided in his kaleidoscopic eyes. Sometimes he would look relaxed, others he would look pained. He'd be limping, then he'd be alright. There would be a bruise on his arm that looked awfully unlike an accident, but then it would be gone within the hour. It just didn't seem right to her; Tucker had thought the same thing too. Not to mention that the needle he stuck in his food was awfully suspiscious. She'd have to ask about that later on.

Secondly, he had just agreed to go into the town mayor's car because he had a ghostly query? He had barely even considered the dangers of getting into some granddad's fancy car before he just agreed and flounced over, happy as can be. The teenager had just completely ignored her carefully-worded cautioning, dropped the 'chill, that's my uncle' bomb, and climbed into his car. That situation took a while to sink in; too many things happening at once; and before she knew it, the car was already speeding off down the road.

Vlad Masters; an intelligent, capable mayor, but known to be an ecotystical bastard who doesn't care for other's when there isn't money or some sort of power involved. There was nothing he loved more than strong forces of authority and a hefty dose of cash to add to it. Being the sort of guy that would probably have the goal of ruling over mankind at the beginning of his to-do list, Vlad was prideful and manipulative, speaking in a smug, persuasive and slightly hypnotising way on those monthly gatherings her family were always forced to attend. Despite having never really talked to him properly before, Sam found she rather despised everything about him; even his grey ponytail made her insides clench.

But the fact that he was possibly Danny's uncle was just haunting. Danny Fenton; nervous, troubled and your typical angsty teenager with a few tricks up his sleeve. Charming, funny and the most comforting person you could ever meet. He was impossibly stubborn but made up for it with a heart of gold and the lopsided smile of a hero. There was nothing he loved more then a good banter session, or an exciting prank to play on one innocent geography teacher. No one could have ever guessed that such an amazing person could be related closely to someone so evil and prideful; Sam found herself severely baffled at the situation.

 _If he gets molested, I swear to God I'll punch him_ , Sam thought bitterly, though she nearly laughed out loud afterwards. She briefly wondered where in the world Tucker was and why he was taking so long, but she chose not to ponder upon it too much. After all, he was talking to Mr. Lancer, and that generally meant that hour-long nerd conversations were in store afterwards. Already missing the company of her only friends (she wasn't afraid to admit it; ever be afraid to prove your trashiness, Tucker would always say), Sam slid into a picnic bench seat and dozed.

. . .

Danny found himself unsurprised at the vastness of Vlad Master's house.

It was sat on a rolling green hill, in front of a beautiful Wisconsin horizon that lay jagged with splaying trees and authentic farm buildings. It covered most of the hilltop's surface with its sheer towering size - Danny, again, wasn't surprised. The walls were made of a clean grey stone of a range of colours, from a smooth slate grey to a faded beige. As well as this, the doors and windowsills were made of a dark mahogany, which made the manor look ten times as fancy as it did before. The roof was slanted and made of tightly-packed slate; Danny could see that it was new because it was barely weathered by the rain (he learnt about it in science ages ago; the acid in the rain reacts with the slate and chemically weathers it).

It was a beautiful building, he had to admit, and it looked a lot prettier than his own house. Anything did, really; thanks to the Ops Centre, even the poorest of houses would look better then his.

"I see you're appreciating my house," Vlad remarked with a sly grin., "it is nice, isn't it?"

Danny felt a whisp of hate streak through his body at the sound of his older uncle's smug voice. He had despised the long, long car journey to Wisconsin and every single word that Vlad had spoken to him. It was Hell: not knowing whether he actually needed his help with the Ghost Zone/ghost portal problem or whether he just wanted to molest him, especially as he seemed to be admiring his eyes half the time. The man just seemed to be so perverted basically all the time and it was as startling as ever. Was this man really the mayor of Amity Park? He sure didn't act like it.

And he hated to leave Sam behind at the school, even though she had just admitted that she knew of his undead counterpart. While that had left a tense atmosphere between the two, he had sensed just how anxious the beautiful gothic teenager had been as he agreed to help out/get raped by his uncle. She had had no idea that they were related, so he understood her nerves; although, he couldn't help but feel terrible for going against her warning and leaving her behind. Would she hate him for ignoring her or would she just brush it off?

Knowing her, she would probably kill him for his stupidness. If he lived past this, that is.

Clenching his fists, Danny only nodded. "Yeh, it's cool," he said nonchalantly, "can we hurry this up, please?"

"Be patient, Little Badger. We're going inside now." Vlad pulled a polished silver key from the inside of his navy blazer, swooning toward the vast mahogany doors in attitudal strides. That same smug grin remained on his face, a gleam of mystery sparkling in the darkesy corner's of his midnight blue irises. The expression sent a tinge of susipscion through Danny's train of thought - he swore that even if Vlad tried to be trustworthy at the best of his ability, no one would be able to rely on such a smug face. He sure didn't, that was for sure.

The door opebed surprisingly quickly for a weight so heavy and thick - Danny's vision blurred for a few seconds as he peered through the gap, trying to see what the front room was like. From the outside it looked smaller then the rest of the building, but it was probably a hallway; most front hallways were generally small. His door just opened into his kitchen, a classic feature of street houses rather than country manors. He saw pale oakwood floors, decorated with a traditional red velvet carpet like that of one you'd see at a movie theature premier, where the star of the film was coming to sign autographs and shake hands.

The walls were painted a deep ocean blue, jagged over the rock but still pretty, and had mahogany sliding that matched the colour of the windowsills and the doors. Patterened along the smooth surface were several paintings of different subjects such as grand-looking people, beautiful places and even a fw of himself (trust an ecotistical weirdo to have portraits on his walls). A locked chest sat on the left side of the room, with a delicate pot of orchids balanced ontop of it, and a shoe rack sat on the other side. Many leather shoes made for suits sat upon it, leaving little space. In one corner was a neat leather chair, tucked beside a small beside table kind of thing.

It wasn't largely furnished but it was still beautiful for a mere hallway. Danny found great pleasure in the cold air of the room and the faint scent of flowers; it certainly didn't seem like the kind of house Vlad would have. "It's nice in here," the halfa found himself commenting, earning a small smile from the older man. He obviously thought so as well.

"Thank you, Daniel," he thanked briefly, before swooning past the teenager and heading for the door that would lead into the rest of the house, "don't bother taking your shoes off, I don't mind."

"Mmkay." Danny took one last breath to admire the scent of the room before following his smug uncle, who had already enterered the next room. His breath was caught as soon as he walked in, for the room was possibly more beautiful than the hallway. It was for sure a lot larger, with the same stone walls as the outside of the house instead of the ocean blue paint and the same mahogany sliding, as well as the same pale oak flooring. On one side, books upon books set up in a neat shelf lay against the walls, with leather armchairs set up in one corner that seemed to be used as a reading station quite a bit.

There was a fireplace on the exact opposite side of the wall from where they were currently stood. It was huger then any fireplace he had seen, with a fancy set up inside - one of those metal fence things to keep the wood from falling out with a large heatproof basket to actually put the fuel in. The walls of the fireplace's stomach was neat brick and wasn't even seared by streaks of ash, like it was brand new. A large mirror was imprinted into the wall just above that, polished with a golden outside.

A flatscreen TV, so large he wasn't sure how many inches it was, was pressed into the opposite wall, with several armchairs around it (Danny would look at that sometime). Beside the TV set up - was that an xBox and PS4 too? - was a wide archway instead of a door, lined with mahogany wood. It led, from what he could see, into an expensive looking kitchen that he would investigate later. There were gaps in the middle wall beside that arch which seemed to be a bar, as well as a place you could sit and watch whoever is cooking make the food, kind of like a Starbucks layout. On the wall where the door they had just come through was, there were more sofas, and a fancy dining table.

"Wow," Danny breathed, "your house is rich, man."

"Thank you. Follow me - we're going to my lab." Vlad strode toward the fireplace and Danny floated behind him lazily, bored of using his legs to walk around after the older man. His hand reached up to one ornament - a beautiful wooden horse - on top of the fireplace, gently pulling at it's well-carved head. At first, Danny nearly choked in confusion, but a whirring sound was heard, followed by the sound of metal splitting from metal. "What th-" he started, but was soon cut off...

... because his fireplace split into two, to reveal yet another room, with an appearance much different from the rest.

* * *

 **well this chapter was a train wreck from start to finish o_O  
I hope everyone in character~I'm not entirely sure I got them right. can you tell me if I did or didn't so I can either feel better about this chapter's quality or edit and improve it for the next chapter? c: thank you!  
also I made a new house for our resident cheesehead fruitloop because I couldn't remember what his looked like (I don't even think that it was shown much before it was blown up lol).**

 **also I'm sorry this chapter was boring as FUCK to read. I understand if you guys are like "YOU COULD HAVE ADDED SO MUCH MORE YOU SKRUB" but I'm not gonna add any more to it unless it's reallyyy required. I didn't really want more then 5k words in this chappie? sorry ;u; hue hue hue hue hueee  
**

 **my sister and I are fighting over who gets the new laptop or the new iPad ;_; I want booooth *cri***

 **and ignore the top A/N... my black emo soul couldn't handle this mashup (look it up on YT: 'Welcome To The Centures' by Bandm. *cries in temmie voice in a pile of squareflakes* can't contain the feels x_x**

 **my funny story of the chapter is going to be from a YT video I watched, so it's not actually mine. it belongs to 'Master of Luck'!  
basically, Will (aka Master of Luck) got his wisdom teeth out and was really high of the morphine (I think that's what it is?). his poor mum asked him whether he felt sick and he said this:** **"I'm not a lil bitch mum, I don't puke" XDDD couldn't STOP LAUGHING at tHAT. c:  
and he also honked the horn and went "hAH THAT CAR GOT FUCKED UP LOOOOL"  
** **also... "y'know what I really want? suBWAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"**

 **please review! they are very much appreciated and make me feel like this story is loved. can we see if we can get maybe more then 300 reviews? so close to 300 right now!** **(so sorry for the delay of this chapter and generally how messy it is! hope it's enjoyable anyway XD)**

 **see ya next time c;  
-Kinetic**

 **ps: I'm accepting beta-reading requests! Just shoot me a PM~ I'll focus on grammar, vocab etc. for shows I don't know very well and I'll focus on both that and facts for shows I do know well. Sorry if my responses are late though ^^***

 **pps: my Author's Notes are so messy oml X_X**

 **ppps: if you know where 'skrub' and 'hue hue hue' come from I will love you forever. c:**


	17. Chapter 17: Ghost Zone Troubles

_thank you guys so much for 300 reviews! usually people get 300 reviews when they're on like, chapter 40, but getting there at 17? that's awesome ;D  
_

 _also I've had many, many, *many* requests for more abuse scenes (you're all psycho by the way XD). they will be coming soon, but this story actually has a pre-written plot I need to follow, unlike a lot of abused!Danny stories we see around. just be patient, children. ((:_

* * *

 **Traumatized**  
a Danny Phantom fanfiction by memeteam2016

* * *

 **Chapter 17:**  
Ghost Zone Problems

. . .

"Holy shitballs," Danny breathed, "you _do_ have a lab... and it's so much bigger than mine!"

It was underground, though the transition from the living room to the lab was such a smooth slope that he barely noticed it was inside the hill behind the manor as the two strode down. The walls were still made of the same mottled stone as the outside of the vast building but was hidden mainly behind stacked cabinets and metal shelving units that Danny had in his parents' (he shivered at the thought of calling them that) lab back at Fenton Works. There were many viles of different liquids set up on the shelves in organised rows, labelled in neat writing with scientific words that Danny couldn't read from where he was stood. In the center of the room was a granite table, decorated with a microscope and a small pot full of what he guessed were spare slides.

Danny loved to see such a neat lab. It was so neat and organised, almost satisfying to the eye. While he definitely wasn't a scientist and didn't know as much a lot of people in this world, he for sure had a good eye for perfect workplaces. This was one of them.

But the thing that really grabbed his attention and kind of made his insides squirm in both discomfort and uncertainty was the Ghost Portal situated in the opposite end of the lab. As far as Danny could see, it was a fraction smaller then his own portal and seemed very slightly longer, despite behind round instead of heptagonal. It was made of a polished steel that was so clean it was pleasing to the eye and the large nails holding it to the wall seemed brand new. There was no protective doors, revealing the illuminating verdant swirls of the Ghost Zone in its full glory, leaving the room aglow with a green hint that caused a sense of discomfort to settle through the halfa's body.

The air was different, to say the least - while Danny wasn't sure whether it was like this all the time in this particular lab, it seemed more ominous and unnatural. It was like a switch had been flicked and suddenly the levels of power floating in the room's atmosphere was ten times more powerful then he would have expected. He wasn't complaining, certainly; the feeling of being energized so suddenly wasn't what he would call bad. It was just... shocking.

In both good and bad ways, of course.

He watched the portal with uncertain multi-coloured optics, uneasy about how there was no door. With a content nod, Vlad held his hands behind his back and set his pointed midnight gaze upon the younger. "I can see you're uncertain about the lack of a door on my portal," he concluded in a honey-smooth voice, "you shouldn't worry, Little Badger. The ghosts don't so much as poke their heads through my portal, I'm sure of that. You said there may be a problem with my portal. Can you see any problems with my portal, before I get you some equipment so I can contact you while in the Zone?" The man's smile seemed genuine, but he could see that there was a certain hint behind the formal grin that he didn't like.

But the teenager brushed it off, instead choosing to begin with his request. The room was tensely silent as he strode toward the portal, his eyes narrowing critically as he approached the contraption. "It's a different shape to mine," he observed nonchalantly, an expert hand ghosting over the metal with an almost perfectly coordinated touch, "and you've done a good job cleaning it, too... well, save for this, I guess." He motioned to one part of the wall around the dome of the portal, where splashes of ectoplasmic materials sprayed across the stone in a range of directions.

Vlad visibly tensed. "Yes, I've noticed those," he said formally, "the Ghost Zone has been dumping wasted ectoplasmic residue into my portals lately. I'm not entirely sure why. I saw no problems with my portal itself when I searched it over when I had first seen it, nor did I see any within the next few days." The teenage halfa nodded slowly, his eyes yet again upon the technology's structure; the verdant glow that hit his face seemed to waver as he placed his hand upon the metallic surface of the portal, like it reacted to his touch.

"I can't feel or see anything wrong with the portal," he muttered, more to himself then the other being in the room, "what _is_ that strange sensation I can feel when I put my hand over it?" Fearlessly, he put his hand over the surface of the verdant swirl of ectoplasmic energy, his fingers quivering as a burst of power flooded into his veins. While this was normal, he couldn't help but be concerned at the amount that had barged into his bodily flow at one time; it was like the ectoplasm was bursting to get out, like a grenade begging to be thrown into the battlefield. It would almost be a terrifying sensation, if it didn't feel so _good_ to be energized so suddenly.

"I don't know," Vlad responded formally, audibly cluttering with something behind the teenager, "I'm not a ghost, so I can't feel it."

Danny could almost _see_ the reluctance in the man's tone as he spoke, but he brushed it off. "It's like I've been super-charged or something," he said, pulling his hand away from the portal's entrance and cracking his knuckle to distract himself for the sudden coldness he felt in his veins, "I mean, I'm not complaining or anything, but it's just weird for it to be so sudden. It shouldn't be that fast. Something's wrong with the Zone, not your portal."

"You admitted it?" Vlad uttered, though it seemed more like a question rather than a statement, "that's a first. Here, take this-" He gave something small to Danny, who wrinkled his nose at the familiar piece of technology. It beeped in his palm, almost like it recognized him. _Is this the Fenton Phone I used at the ghost weapon showcase?_ he thought to himself, his brow furrowing, _why does he have it?_

"Shut up, Fruitloop," he snapped sharply, placing the Fenton Phone carefully on the table beside him and flexing his fingers. A quiet tinge of terror grasped his chest as he remembered that he had to transform - it ached, sometimes, so painfully, that he wanted to punch something. Hard. He didn't want to do it, but he couldn't just leave the Ghost Zone in some sort of weirdly peril state, could he?

A sigh stifled his growl of defiance and the halfa clenched his fists, feeling the energy that buzzed inside of his ghostly core strengthen and spread through his body. The pale blue halos cupped his body; where the rings crossed would transform from human to undead. The air pressure in the room shifted to meet the ghost's bodily functions - black was now whitewashed snow, kaleidoscopic optics were now a glowing emerald that could have threatened millions of new faces.

Danny stretched his arms, disliking the feeling of being back in his ghost form. A sharp, stabbing pain shot up his neck, where he knew there was a rather large scar running up his skin, though the halfa blandly ignored it. The glow that now surrounded his body was discomforting and, while he was used to the freakish sensation, he failed to hear the familiar beat of his heart. Replacing the organ, just until he turned human once more, was his ghost core - a heart of its own, designed to pump ectoplasm through his veins instead of crimson blood. It didn't pulse like a heart should, it just... sat.

He could see that his ghostly aura was brighter, like the power surge had bitten into him with its sharp fangs and the venom had taken its painless affect. Something in his stomach flipped uncomfortably and Danny felt himself grow queasy with the very thought of the flip-side dimension's rather sudden change physically begin to take place in his body.

He reached for the Fenton Phones, but his heart - cough, _core_ \- stopped as soon as he remembered Vlad was stood in the room also. Letting out a startled yelp as the man's mainly body crossed his line of vision, Danny nearly dropped the piece of technology he currently held entrapped in his snowy white gloves. "Jesus, Vlad!" he gasped, sending a withering glare toward his uncle, "you scared the shit out of me! You're so quiet!"

"I'm sorry... I guess," Vlad said, his eyebrow cocking, "I was just admiring your transformation process, Daniel."

"My name is _Danny_ ," the teenager grumbled, "and thanks, I suppose." As he held a stubbornly unsocial, Danny slid the earpiece into place, his delicate fingers moving expertly to adjust the sizing and amplitude levels on the small piece of technology. He knew how to work the Fenton Phones perfectly - after all, he had been raised around mechanics such as these, and it wasn't like he had never used them before. Briefly, Danny regarded Vlad's gaze as the older man watched Danny work the Fenton Phones. "Mind explaining the plan to me, old man?" he asked rather rudely, though Vlad seemed to not be bothered by his rough tone.

"It isn't much, Daniel; all you need to do is go in, take a look around, report what you find, and come back when you've finished," he responded, a confident grin gracing his lips, "I do hope you can handle such a _dangerous task_ , Little Badger."

At the mock, Danny's temper flared, and he had to stop himself from punching the older man straight in the nose. "Of course I can, _old man_ ," he countered angrily, "that's why you asked for my help, isn't it? Too old and creaky to move those bones of yours?" The result of his retort was pure gold; Vlad seemed to freeze for a moment, his words leaving his mouth through an uncertain cough. A heavy breath through the nostril appeared to show that the older man admitted his defeat and Danny let out a noise of triumph.

"Hurry up and get into the Ghost Zone, _Little Badger_ ," the man snarled maddeningly ("someone's on their man period," Danny couldn't help but mumble under his breath), "before I kick your ass into next century."

"Fine, fine." Danny didn't hesitate in letting the fingers of the Zone wrap around his consciousness and heave him into it's dangerous verdant swirls.

. . .

Danny had been expecting the Ghost Zone to be brighter and livelier in it's sudden burst of ectoplasmic energy that never seemed to stop buzzing. He would have thought that there would be more ghosts crowding around the areas where it was more powerful, trying to absorb as much as they could in the temporary surge, or more of those purple portals dotted around the place, created by the wasted energy.

But, as the halfa hovered by the entrance of Vlad's portal in hope of a fast escape if anything were to happen, he quickly concluded that this was not the case at all. For starters, there were little to no ghostly presences around. He couldn't even sense an ecto-puss in the far distance - what he could sense, though, was the eternal atmosphere of sapping terror that seemed to worm its way around Danny's mental barriers. The lack of any entities in the Zone apart from his own was startling, for there had never been a moment when the flip-side dimension was so fucking _silent_. There was no way that this could be considered normal for such a place.

Next, he slowly began to notice that the presence of the purple doors was missing. There were a few behind him, five or six tops, but other then that, the place was bare. It took his mind a few minutes to comprehend the situation. Usually, they were seen everywhere; the lack of them only urged that sliver of terror to grow into genuine fear for the Zone and it's health.

Something was wrong and it was such an ominous feeling that he could _sense_ the dimension's distress.

Distracted by these thoughts, Danny had nearly missed the most definite change in the Ghost Zone's demeanor. Instead of being walled by bright verdant swirls that he had grown accustomed with and found comfort within the colour, the hue was stained with spots of bloody red and demonic raven - they seemed to crawl and wail along their journey upon the Zone's never ending heavens. Danny's stomach lurched as he realized that the colour change was moving from one direction of the Ghost Zone, from one direction he clearly recognized.

Nothing had ever been so powerfully degrading to drain the Zone of its ghostly dye, nor could it even scare _Walker_ from his prison. Whatever the veil of satanic colours was doing crawling over the Zone, Danny knew it couldn't be good. A stitch of growing concern kneaded into Danny's slender stomach and he swallowed, his gaze hardening. Not even Pariah would have been able to affect the dimension so greatly that it began to deteriorate - so why was it coming from the direction of the ghost king's devil kingdom itself?

It was revealed that long before nearly all the other ghosts in the Ghost Zone were even spawned, a ghost named Pariah Dark was the most powerful and dangerous ghost in the Ghost Zone. He was the king of all ghosts, and the Fright Knight was his servant. Pariah was considered a brutal tyrant and ruled the Ghost Zone with a rough-fingered, iron fist.

Eventually, a fierce group of powerful ancient ghost had apparently banded together to break through the blanket of depressing darkness the King had shadowed over the Zone. Their means of defeating him had not been explained in any source Danny had researched, however somehow Pariah's Ring of Rage and Crown of Fire were removed and sealed away. Also, his servant the Fright Knight was similarly sealed away, within a pumpkin as per his ghostly weakness, according to a history book on ghosts he had read. These ancient ghosts imprisoned Pariah himself in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, and destroyed his kingdom, leaving behind only his castle where they hoped he would sleep forever.

Danny mulled over his thoughts silently. If Pariah had been dormant for centuries and was locked in a sarcophagus that would keep him under sleep for apparent eternity, what could he have to do with the black and red colours that streaked across the Zone's surface? Suddenly an expectant tone cut into his ears and the teenager jumped, startled at being pulled out of his thoughts so abruptly. Had he possessed a heart right now, it would be beating fast and hard in his small jolt of panic. He had nearly forgotten Vlad was on the other side of the earpiece.

"Daniel?" the familiar tone purred, calling his attention with expert easiness, "is there a problem? You haven't spoken for a while."

Sighing tensely, Danny took another weary glance around the Zone. "It's definitely the Zone, Fruitloop," he said into the technology, his brow furrowing as he conjured a coherent sentence, "something is very, very wrong with this place right now. It's freaky; there aren't any ghosts around for some reason."

"Is that considered a problem?" Vlad responded, his voice barely showing emotion.

Danny hummed thoughtfully. "Yes, a big one. Usually, there are ghosts everywhere. If it were normal, I would enter the Zone and instantly be greeted by several of the darned things floating around my head. Not this time, though. It's so quiet, now; I can't even sense any presences within the Zone's radius. It's like they'll all been wiped off my radar or something," he said, pressing his fingers against the earpiece harder in his anxious state, "it's making me nervous. What's more, there are no natural portals around, and the Zone's changed colour."

"Changed colour?"

"Oh, you've never been in here, have you? Usually, the 'walls' - there aren't really any walls but that's what I call them since they look like it - are kinda darkish green and swirly, but something is either overlapping that colour or sucking it out. It's turning red and black, Vlad. Kind of like a sheet crawling over the skies." Danny stretched out as he explained, finding no interest in moving as he spoke. "Do you know about a ghost named Pariah Dark?"

The line went momentarily silent, before Vlad finally replied in his formal tone. "Yes, I've heard of his existence, but I do not know much about him. What does he have to do with the colour change that you speak of?"

Abruptly, Danny hit a blunt wall. Was is safe enough to speak of Pariah Dark and his Keep to Vlad, one of the least trustworthy-looking men he had ever laid his eyes on? If he told Vlad about the brute force of Pariah's seemingly limitless power, would the older man try anything he shouldn't with the knowledge? While Vlad was only a human being and a human being only (is his ghost half making him think he's above humans again?), he was certainly cunning and highly intelligent. To make matters worse, he was rich; he could do anything with that amount of money.

"I'm not sure I should tell you..." the teenager admitted faintly, running a hand through his blizzard-white hair, "... it's kind of dangerous information. I should ask someone I know first." His mind briefly flickered over a certain time-controlling ghost and he sucked in a long, shuddering breath, trying to steady his nerves. The last time he had approached Clockwork instead of the specter appearing to him, he had barely came out with his life - and that was because Clockwork really didn't feel that 'new parents' were something he should change at a simple request.

"Oh go on, Daniel. You can tell me _everything_..." At the sudden voice, Danny's heart froze.

That wasn't Vlad's voice.

It was his _mother's_ voice.

* * *

 **I am SO SO SO sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but it was losing followers fast and I really needed to get a chapter out soon. Please, feel free to complain about it's horrific quality in the reviews, I'll just take the brunt of it all and take it like a man. I've been sick lately and my depression and anxiety have been attacking me like crazy too. Sorry. :/**

 **I have been OBSESSED with a show on Netflix called Bad Education. It has literally enveloped my life. Steven is literally a sass master and Alfie is so chummy with his students, especially Joe and Mitchell. XDD I seriously advice this show... ... if you don't mind brief sexual activity and severe language. I'm not a pervert, I promise. This show is just banta. ((:**

 **I have no story today. Sorry, guys, I'm too sick to remember anything that happened. Haven't been at school and my head is literally pounding. XD**

 **Hmm I'm not going to ask for a certain amount of reviews because they'll all be hate for this crappy chappy (RHYMES), but maybe a few nice ones about the few good things would be nice? xD**

 **LOVE YOU ALL~  
\- Kinetic**


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